


To do What's Right

by SleepyxAsh



Category: Naruto
Genre: Blackmail, Both are heads of their clans at the beginning of the story, Butsuma lives, F/M, Hate to Love, M/M, Madara and Tobirama hate each other at first, Madara becomes a servant, Tajima Lives, The Senjus win against the Uchihas, They're really not that graphic, depictions of violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-13
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-02-14 11:38:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 89,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13006992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleepyxAsh/pseuds/SleepyxAsh
Summary: The Uchihas are defeated by the Senju and sent to live in a compound at the edge of the Senju territory. As a form of blackmail and a blow to pride, Madara is taken and forced to become Tobirama's servant. Tobirama doesn't even want him in the first place, but when he realizes that Madara will die unless he agrees, he does so grudgingly. As time passes by, Tobirama and Madara both slowly realize that there is more to their enemies than hatred and evil.





	1. Nonexistent Pride

Madara was trying to remember the exact moment that dignity had become a foreign concept to him. Was it when Hashirama had finally beaten him and spared his life? Or was it when he had been forced to get down on his knees along with his father and younger brother and kneel to the Senju clan, begging for the survival of the rest of their clan?

Maybe it was when the entire clan had been taken to a “settlement” that was guarded by Senju shinobi at all times, in other words, a glorified prison, but none of the head family had been permitted to stay. Madara had a collar wrapped around his neck, the same as his father and brother, and had been taken away.

He was sitting in a building in the settlement with his family. They were on the floor with their hands tied in front of them, and their feet bound. Three guards were standing inside as well. He recognized that bastard Butsuma Senju when he walked through the door, accompanied by two strangers, more guards from the looks of it.

He gave the man his darkest look, and the Senju looked down at Madara with a sickening smile. “This is your eldest, isn’t it, Tajima?” Butsuma questioned lightly, as though speaking to an old friend, and not a beaten mortal enemy.

“Yes,” his father replied after a few seconds.

“He seems to be rather spirited still,” Butsuma observed. “Do you think it’s because of all of your brethren that we’ve slaughtered?” It was a mocking inquiry that set Madara’s blood on fire.

“Burn in hell!” Madara shouted. He tried to push himself up and gather chakra. It was as though his reservoir had gone completely dry, however. Nothing was coming out. He hissed in frustration right before he felt a searing pain in his side and felt himself flying across the small room, crashing on the ground with a low thud on the grimy wood floor. He grimaced in distaste as the side of his face rubbed against the grainy dirt. He didn’t make a sound from the pain, refusing to give the guard that kicked him any gratification for hurting him.

“I think that this one shall do nicely,” Butsuma sighed. Madara heard footsteps moving closer to him and struggled to at least sit up, but he was scrunched up in too much of an awkward position and he was too disoriented to raise himself up.

He felt a foot sit on the same spot that he’d been kicked before and press down harshly on it. Madara bit his lip so hard that he tasted blood in his stubborn effort to keep quiet. A moment later, the foot went away, and a heel went straight into his stomach, pushing him over until he laid supine. The air left his lungs in a _whoosh_ as he looked up at Butsuma with wide eyes. He quickly changed it back to a snarl. He wanted to curse at him again, but there was no more air in his lungs to make it happen.

“Tell me, boy,” Butsuma said, “do you know what I like to do to my enemies after they’re defeated?”

Madara remained silent, refusing to so much as acknowledge the man’s existence. He would not stand for this disgrace to his family’s name.

“Tajima,” Butsuma said, “I’d tell your boy to be more cooperative if you want him to make it through this meeting.”

“Madara,” Tajima said sharply. “Cooperate!”

He turned and looked at his father, who had beaten obedience into them from the day that they were born. He knew better than to disobey him, but this was going a bit too far. He wanted him to cooperate with the enemy? His father was glaring at him, his eyes were angry slants, and Madara knew that look. He was furious. If this would have been a situation when they were younger, it would have meant a serious ass-whooping was imminent.

Swallowing back his pride, he slowly turned away from his father and looked back up at the head of the Senju clan. “No,” he muttered.

“Good boy,” Butsuma said, nodding his head in approval. “Next time, I’d better hear a sir. You will address me as your better, understood?”

Madara’s teeth ground together as he nodded. “Yes, sir,” he said.

“Let me tell you what I like to do with my enemies, boy,” Butsuma said, “I like to break them down mentally. I want to completely crush them and annihilate their spirit. You’re Madara Uchiha; you’re very famous amongst both of our clans. You’re the most promising warrior that your clan has seen for many generations, and it just so happens that you’ve got a strong will about you. You’ll be what breaks your clan down.”

“What do you intend to do, Butsuma?” his father questioned.

Madara head a slapping noise and turned to see one of the guards backhand his dad across the face. He felt his own face contort with rage as he began moving. Izuna shouted in protest as he attempted to jump at the guard as well. Neither boy had been close to their father, who’d been cold and obsessed with the war against the Senju, but that didn’t matter. He was still their dad, and neither of them would stand for him to be disrespected.

Madara felt another blow to his other side, and saw his brother fly across the room and slam into the door of the building. He landed with a loud _thump_ and didn’t move.

“Don’t speak unless spoken to, Tajima,” Butsuma advised him. “Since you asked that, however, I’ll enlighten you. I’m going to take your oldest son from you and turn him into a servant for one of my sons.”

Madara’s gut clenched at that admission. He felt bile rise in his throat in pure disgust. The thought of serving one of those bastards made him feel physically ill. He’d rather die.

He heard a groan, and realized that it was his brother being picked up from where he was blocking the door. He was unceremoniously thrown back to his original spot next to his father. The door opened a moment later and admitted a pretty woman dressed in armor. Madara recognized her from the battlefield, but couldn’t remember her name, though he thought that it started with a T.

“Is everything alright?” she questioned, looking around. “I heard a lot of banging from outside.”

“Just in time, Toka,” Butsuma told her. “Escort these pieces of trash back to their settlement. We’ll be taking this one,” he felt another harsh kick, “with us.”

Without another word, Madara felt the world sway beneath him before he was thrown into the air and landed on someone’s shoulder. He shut his eyes tightly in anger. Had he really thought that the blow to his pride could not be more acute?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my newest work! This one has been picking at my brain for a few days, so I figured that I'd sit down and see what I could think up. I hope you enjoy it and by all means, please tell me what you thought of it!


	2. Frustration

Tobirama had been fiercely enjoying his week of freedom. The Uchiha had been totally beaten, and thoroughly cowed. They had been taken to a compound somewhere at the edge of the Senju land, a day’s travel for a Shinobi, and locked away.

Tobirama didn’t know if he necessarily liked the fact that they were prisoners, but he didn’t have any say in it, and had learned long ago that complying to his clan’s head’s wishes was the simplest way to do things. His father wasn’t a patient man, and he could be cruel when angered. So, he’d just taken the simplest route and pushed the troubling thought away. It was always going to come down to this anyway, despite his naïve brother’s dream of peace. The hatred had been felt for too long, it was too deep and much too strong for anyone to just put a bandage over and pretend that it had never been there.

He sighed as he sat down in his lab. Hashirama had been kind enough to build him an outpost of his own on his eighteenth birthday on one of the rare trips that they had at their actual home.

This was the first time that he’d actually been able to put it to use in the almost four years that it had been around. Tobirama truly liked the set up and the design. The benches were spaced out nicely, ensuring that his different experiments would not get mixed up. There were anatomical charts of the human body, a periodic table, and many other models plastered to the walls.

There was even that horrible picture of the two brothers together at a victory party when he had been fourteen and Hashirama had been sixteen. Neither were legally old enough to drink, but that didn’t stop Hashirama from gulping down quite a few shots of sake when their father wasn’t looking. The result had been a thoroughly plastered Hashirama beaming at the camera, holding a horrified Tobirama in a chokehold next to him, shooting up a peace sign with his free hand.

Tobirama shook his head at that memory. His brother was an idiot most of the time, but Tobirama missed him dearly the week that he’d been gone. He couldn’t wait to have him back. There was some news that Tobirama needed to break to him before his father callously could. Hashirama had no idea that the Uchihas have been put in a compound and would stay there for the rest of their lives, and the lives of their children, grandchildren, et cetera.

His brother was going to be positively heartbroken. That monster of a best friend that he had _Madara Uchiha_ , he thought angrily, was sure to be there also. Hashirama had a deep love for that man, one that went back to childhood. Tobirama curled his lip in revulsion at that. How could anyone, let alone a Senju, love a monster like an Uchiha? Of course, he was thinking more on the platonic side of love. He had no idea what would make Hashirama like Madara at all. From what Tobirama could see of him, he had been arrogant, cold, a machine of pure death and hatred. He and his younger brother were probably the two Uchihas that Tobirama had hated the most.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a twitching motion on the dead rabbit that he had been observing. He inhaled sharply, feeling excitement attempt to rise up in his throat.

BANG! BANG!

“Tobirama!” it was Eiji Senju, he was fairly sure.

In all honesty, he couldn’t even remember how they were related anymore. He just went the safest rout, refusing to so much as look away from the rabbit, waiting for another response.

“Yes, cousin?” Tobirama called out.

“Your father is back,” Eiji replied through the door. “He wishes to speak with you.” Tobirama sighed in annoyance. He supposed that this couldn’t be helped though. He looked down at the rabbit just a few moments longer, wondering why the rabbit was no longer showing any signs of life. Had he just imagined the movement in the first place?

It didn’t matter. He’d just have to look into it later. He pushed himself to his feet and walked to the door. Eiji was no longer waiting for him outside, but he saw a procession of shinobi walking toward their manner. He walked out in front of their house and politely waited. He wasn’t over eager to speak with his father; honestly, he couldn’t remember the last time he was really eager about speaking to anyone.

It only took a couple of minutes before the group had made it to the front of the mansion. Tobirama was sitting on the porch with his elbows propped up on his knees. His father was at the front of the crowd with a very pleased expression plastered on his face. He’d been gone for three days, and Tobirama couldn’t imagine what he had gotten himself into in that time. Whatever it was probably wasn’t great for the other party. The only time that he’d ever seen his father get excited over anything was when it happened to result in someone else’s misery.

“Tobirama,” his father said, “I’m glad that you were here today. I have a housewarming gift for you.”

Tobirama raised an eyebrow at the wording. He’d bought his own home a few years back in hopes of being able to use it one day. So far, he hadn’t had any luck in that department. He’d been much too busy fighting in this never-ending war to think about settling down in a nice, quiet space by himself. He’d taken this past week to rest and relax a little before moving.

“What sort of housewarming gift could you have possibly seen fit to pick up for me, father?” Tobirama asked. The wording of the question probably sounded insolent, but he couldn’t think of another way to phrase it. His father was always a strange man, and never did things the traditional way. He had a feeling that his gift was hardly a vase of flowers or a family portrait to hang on the wall above the mantle of his fireplace.

Without saying another word, his father merely snapped his fingers. Two men dragged forward a figure. He could tell that it was a person, but with the way that the long hair was slung over its face, covering the entire front of the body, he couldn’t even tell if it was a man or a woman. The lack of curves had him leaning toward the masculine side more so than the feminine.

“We figured that a servant would do you some good,” Butsuma said. “I’d take him myself, but I feel as though it’d be beneath me as the head of the clan. You’re much more fitting to receive this gift.”

“He doesn’t look very willing,” Tobirama observed. “I believe that the term you used is incorrect. I’m pretty sure that the one that you are looking for is _slave._ ”

His father waved it off as if saying _details, details._ Tobirama thought that the information was a bit more important than that, but kept it to himself. “Who is this, ah, _servant_?”

The robes that they were wearing were a drab grey, not giving anything away. The pitch-black hair could allude to a lot of clans, but that hair style, even in total disarray, made Tobirama pause. He had a feeling that he knew who it was, and he didn’t like it.

“Stand him up properly,” Butsuma commanded to the guards, who immediately complied. The man was lifted forcefully to his feet and hair was swept out of his face none too gently. Tobirama closed his eyes at the sight of the last person on earth that he ever wanted to see.

Madara Uchiha.

 

 

Madara composed his features tightly as he looked at Tobirama. The white-haired ninja was one of his greatest enemies, and the hatred that he felt in his stomach as he looked at him was nearly impossible to control. That monster had nearly killed his younger brother, and had worn a mask of total nonchalance while he was doing it, as if it brought him no emotions at all to slay a man in front of him. Tobirama looked back at him with the same blankness as always.

“I don’t want him,” Tobirama said coldly. He turned to Butsuma and bowed. “I appreciate the thought, father, but I’m uninterested in having an Uchiha living so close to me. I’d prefer it if he were taken back to whatever compound you have set up for them and left there.”

Madara felt his heart sink and nearly stop in a panic. He remembered Butsuma’s warning to him on the way to the Senju house. “ _You will please my son in any way that he needs. If he finds you unhelpful or unappealing, you will be executed, and your brother will be taken here in your stead. If you cause trouble, your brother will be the first one to die, followed by your father and then the rest of your wretched clan.”_

“Wait!” Madara shouted hastily. “Please…s-sir!” he choked at the term of respect as he lowed his eyes to the ground at Tobirama’s feet. “I promise to serve you faithfully. Will you please allow me to?”

He slowly looked up, and saw that Tobirama’s face was still mostly impassive. The only change was the raise in eyebrows as he stared at him. “What did you do to him, father?” Tobirama questioned, finally turning away from Madara to look at Butsuma.

“I simply made him completely obedient, son,” Butsuma said, waving away the question. “I completely understand it if you don’t want him, however. We’ll just execute him and bring his brother out. Would he be more suitable for you?”

Madara opened his mouth to plead again. He had always thought that he was above such disgraceful actions, but he obviously wasn’t. As soon as his brother was brought up, it was as though nothing mattered. He wrenched himself away from the guards and dropped to his knees, putting his bound hands on the ground before him as he leaned forward. “Please, sir, allow me to serve you,” he said, loud enough for it to echo.

Laughter started up like he’d never heard before, all of it aimed at him. Shame was a horrible taste on his tongue, and he couldn’t stand it. He wanted to die in that spot, but knew the consequences of his death. He didn’t look up, not wanting to see the mocking expression that he was certain Tobirama was wearing. He just shut his eyes tightly and concentrated on the mental image of his brother in his head. It was of a younger, smiling Izuna. An image of a boy that had yet to be affected by the war that raged around them. It was when he was still happy and innocent. All he wanted was for his brother to be alive and happy. He would do anything for that to happen, even get on his knees and grovel.

“I had no idea you were so pathetic, Uchiha,” Tobirama’s cold voice cut through him like a knife. His heart clenched in rage, and he wanted to shout and curse at him, but he stayed still, in his pleading position. “Get him up and take him to the guest room in front of my own quarters,” Tobirama commanded. “I’m sure that I can eventually find some sort of use for him since he’s so adamant about it.”

Madara found himself being lifted up by two guards and dragged toward the front of the house. He was brought up the porch and passed Tobirama, his legs banging against each wooden step as he went. He didn’t turn to look at the Senju. He didn’t want to see him right now, not when he was so badly humiliated. His eyes clenched shut in anger as they passed through the doorway to the inside.

“You don’t get a guest room,” one of the guards rumbled as he was pulled upstairs in the same manner as how he was dragged up the porch. The guards stopped abruptly, and he heard a door open. Without any warning, he was flung through the doorway, into complete darkness. He banged against a wall quickly. It was much to close for him to be in a bedroom of any kind. The door shut behind him as he fell to the floor, on top of what felt like a mountain of shoes.

He shut his eyes and allowed his mask to come off. He trembled and bit his lip, willing away tears of frustration. This was so unfair! He had to be strong, though. For Izuna’s sake, he’d do anything.

 

 

Tobirama sat on the porch as the rest of the guards dispersed and his father walked into the house, closing the door behind him. Frustration overwhelmed him. He just wanted to be finished with those monsters. Why was he allowing this?

_Because you can’t stand the thought of a man being butchered in cold blood, even if you do hate him._ Tobirama knew that was the reason why, but he still hated it. Madara was trash and scum. He was the embodiment of everything that Tobirama hated, and now he was stuck with him, just because he refused to be the reason that he died. The desperation that had been on his face when Tobirama’s father had mentioned Izuna had struck a chord deep within him. It was a look of someone willing to do anything to protect what was most precious to them. It was hard to sympathize with Madara, but he could understand that urge.

He put his face in his hands and closed his eyes as he tried to think. _What am I going to do? Hashirama is going to flip out when he hears about this. Madara Uchiha is his best friend._ Hashirama was going to be completely inconsolable and try and appeal to his father about this. It wouldn’t work, of course, but that wouldn’t stop his naïve brother in the least.

He just shook his head and pushed himself to his feet. He’d go and work on his newest jutsu a bit more before retiring for the day. The sun was beginning to go down and he figured that he had a couple of hours before it was dark. Maybe taking that time to keep his mind off things would make a solution clearer when he went back and thought about it.

 

_(Two Hours Later)_

Tobirama sighed in frustration as he got up from his feet. He didn’t understand why the rabbit wasn’t reanimating properly. It was as though he was getting nerve endings to twitch, but that was about it. It was as though the body was coming back, but the brain was unable to function and keep it going. He shrugged it off and grabbed the rabbit as he walked outside. He quickly jumped to the field behind the house and threw the carcass halfway across, knowing that a buzzard would pick it up before the next morning. He walked back inside, and a girl, perhaps fifteen, walked out from the kitchen, wearing a smock.

“Would you like something to eat?” she questioned, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Ah, no thank you,” Tobirama replied, moving toward the stairs. She looked almost disappointed but nodded all the same and retreated back into the kitchen. Tobirama just walked up the staircase and into his room as quickly as he could.

It was a large space, covered with even more scientific diagrams. His swords were hanging on the wall, along with a couple of kunai and a few shuriken. His armor, which needed to be tended to and patched up from the last battle that he’d fought in, was laying in a heap on the chair next to his desk. He ignored it and sat on his bed. He laid back, looking up at the ceiling thoughtfully.

He still didn’t know what to do about his newest headache. Madara was the last person that he wanted around him. He wanted to shove off the responsibility to someone else, but the only other person would be Hashirama. There was a reason that Butsuma had given Madara to his second son instead of his first, and it was because he knew that he and Tobirama detested each other while Madara and Hashirama were friends, or at least had been. Hashirama still felt that way, but Tobirama highly doubted that Madara still felt that sentiment. He obviously wanted Madara’s life to be a living hell, there was no other reason. Hashirama wouldn’t be permitted to have Madara.

Tobirama wasn’t into torturing or tormenting people for kicks, though. He never had been, and he figured that his father would have at least picked up on that. He wouldn’t go out of his way to make Madara miserable. He didn’t like the man enough to go out of his way to be around him that much. Tobirama sighed and considered what he should do.

_You probably need to talk to Madara,_ Tobirama said to himself. _He probably won’t have answers, but he might have some sort of idea of what exactly Butsuma was expecting. You might be able to reach some sort of agreement that will take off some of the stress from your shoulders on this._

He didn’t want to speak to Madara at all, but it did seem like the correct course of action. His eyelids felt heavy, however, and he just shrugged. He’d just talk to him in the morning when he felt more awake. He resituated himself on the mattress and closed his eyes. He was asleep within seconds.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was too eager to wait any longer to put this out. I think that I know where I'm going with this story, but it's still a bit iffy. If anyone has any suggestions of what they would like to see happen, I'm all ears!


	3. Trying to Right Wrongs

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this is such a short chapter. It just seemed to be a good spot to end it.

Madara woke to a bright light stinging his eyes. He groaned and immediately clenched them shut, trying to stop the pain. A moment later, there was a shadow over him, making the aching more manageable. He slowly opened his eyes again and squinted up. Tobirama Senju was standing over him with a frown. His white hair was more of a mess than normal, and he was still in his pajamas without the war paint on his face. Madara was shocked by how different he looked. It was almost normal, which he had never come to expect out of any of the Senju clan members.

“Why are you in here?” Tobirama asked him.

“This is where they put me…” Madara remembered the warning that Butsuma had bestowed upon him and quickly added, “sir,” to the end of the sentence.

“I should have figured,” Tobirama sighed. He reached down and grabbed Madara’s arm, pulling him to his feet. Madara hissed as his legs cramped and buckled. He would have fallen to the ground again if Tobirama hadn’t caught him. Tobirama didn’t ask questions, he just snatched Madara up and hauled him over his shoulder, pulling him out of the closet. Madara clenched his eyes shut, hating that he was being carried like this all over again.

“I can walk,” Madara protested. “You don’t have to do this.”

“You can’t walk with your legs bound, first off,” Tobirama informed him dryly, “second off, you can’t even stand right now. How would you expect to walk, even if you weren’t restrained?”

“I don’t know, sir,” Madara muttered.

“Stop that,” Tobirama said abruptly as he stopped and opened a door before walking through. Madara was thrown off the shoulder, but landed on something soft, bouncing up and down on the bed a few times before he was still. Tobirama moved past him and grabbed something off the wall before he walked over to him. Madara saw that it was a kunai and a moment later, his legs were freed. His feet, which had gone completely numb overnight, slowly started tingling until he felt a painful, pins and needles sensation.

“You don’t have any chakra right now,” Tobirama observed.

Madara nodded in agreement. He felt a cold hand reach out and touch at his neck. “Does it have something to do with this?” Madara figured that he was referring to the collar. It probably was. He had been unable to feel his chakra flow since that thing had been put on him.

“I don’t know, sir,” Madara mumbled.

“I already told you to quit calling me sir,” Tobirama snapped at him. “You don’t like me, and I don’t like you. Quit with the false formalities.”

Madara just looked at Tobirama silently. He was unsure of what to do. Was it some sort of trap? Was Tobirama planning on using this as an excuse to get rid of him for being insolent, and then having a reason to kill the rest of his clansmen? Tobirama must have seen something on Madara’s face, because the younger man sighed.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said.

Madara stiffened at that reassurance and looked at the white-haired man disbelievingly.

Tobirama rolled his eyes and said, “I don’t like you, Uchiha. If you would have died on the battlefield, I wouldn’t have shed a tear. If your entire clan had been wiped out, I wouldn’t have been upset in the least, but that’s not how it happened. You’re still alive, and I’m pretty neutral about that. You’re precious to my brother, however, so I’m not going to see you killed. You don’t deserve his love and trust, but you have them and I won’t hurt him that way, so you have nothing to fear from me.”

Tobirama was quiet for a few moments, and Madara let that all sink in. He had Hashirama to thank for his brother’s continued safety. His old friend was still helping him, and he probably didn’t even know that he was.

“We’re still stuck together,” Madara pointed out quietly. “Nothing is going to change that fact.” He didn’t know what he was going do to. He didn’t know how to act. He was so angry that he was beginning to shake, but he also felt fatigue hitting him harshly.

“What’s wrong with you, Uchiha,” Senju asked him sharply.

“Nothing,” Madara said abruptly. He would be fine, he was certain of it. He’d be damned if Tobirama saw him when he was weak. He’d be strong, that was the only type of pride that he was going to be able to keep, and hell would freeze over before he ever gave it up.

“You’re paler than normal,” Tobirama observed. “Your eyes are sunken in and the bags underneath are nearly black. When was the last time you ate or drank?”

Madara was silent for a moment, trying to remember. He’d had hunger pains on the way to the house, but they had abated by the second day of travel. The rest of the aches and pains that he’d felt had been on the forefront of his mind. He hadn’t eaten the day that his family had been brought to that warehouse either.

“About four days ago,” he said.

Tobirama’s face pinched slightly, and Madara thought that he saw anger on his features. Tobirama immediately walked to his door and exited. Madara just laid on the bed and looked up at the ceiling, completely lost.

What was he supposed to do?

How was he supposed to act?

What was Tobirama going to expect of him?

He felt his breathing starting to quicken, and immediately halted the entire thought process. No panic attacks. He’d been through a lot, and this was only another miserable step to his life. He’d get through it and move on like he did with everything else. He’d have to.

Tobirama entered the room again moments after he’d averted his attention to other things, effectively giving him something to take his mind away from the unpleasantness of everything that surrounded him. His stomach growled at the sight of the plate the man held in his hand. Two sandwiches sat on the dish and were placed beside Madara on the bed. He sat a cup of water down on the night stand before walking back to Madara.

Tobirama grabbed his bound wrists and brought him into a sitting position. “You’re not going to try and attack me if I cut these ropes, are you?”

“No,” Madara told him. It wasn’t as though he was in any position to attack or pose a threat of any kind to Tobirama. He was weak from hunger, exhausted from travel, injured, and not to mention he was without chakra. “It’s not like I’d be any threat to you, anyway.”

Tobirama didn’t say anything as he brought the kunai up and cut off his binds. He walked away from him and sat down at his desk. He turned his back to him and looked down at the front. “Eat,” the younger said.

Madara made no move toward the food. Tobirama sighed and slowly turned to look at him. His red eyes were lit up in annoyance. “I haven’t poisoned it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I don’t want to be in your debt any more than I already am,” Madara informed him. He hadn’t been suspicious about it being poisoned in the least. If Tobirama had wanted him dead, he would have let him be executed the day before.

“You’re not in my debt,” Tobirama told him. “I’m just trying to make the best out of a bad situation that you were dragged into. My clan starved you on the journey here. I’m just trying to remedy that. Now eat before you start to annoy me.”

Remembering that he’d promised himself that he’d obey Tobirama, he immediately turned and started consuming the sandwiches. He forced himself to take little bites, not wanting to scarf it down and get sick.

Tobirama, who had turned back to his desk, casually said, “That water is yours as well. I suggest you drink it.”

Madara moved to comply, but it was too far away for him to simply reach over and grab. He moved to get to his feet and get it, but as soon as he put weight on his legs, his knees buckled, and he fell to the floor with a thud.

The humiliation of it stung more than the pain of hitting the ground did. Tobirama didn’t say anything, he just let out a small sigh as he stood up and walked to Madara. He found himself being slung back onto the bed. “Just sit there,” Tobirama instructed him as he grabbed the glass and handed it to him. “You obviously can’t walk yet, and I have no interest in you overexerting yourself and causing injury.”

Tobirama blinked slowly, as though a realization came to him. “Are you injured anywhere?”

“No,” Madara lied curtly.

“Why don’t I believe you?” Tobirama asked him.

“Why do you ask if you’re not going believe what I say anyway?” Madara countered. When Tobirama didn’t reply, Madara just continued. “I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with me that you need to concern yourself over.”

Tobirama’s look was just as neutral and as cold as ever. Madara knew that the younger man wasn’t concerned in the least. He was probably just asking because he knew that it would be more of a pain to deal with later than it would be immediately.

He refused to admit that he was hurting, however. His sides, legs, and back ached terribly. He hadn’t received medical attention for the wounds that he’d suffered at Hashirama’s hands, and the guard’s treatment of him had only aggravated his wounds, reopening the ones that had started healing and causing the more stubborn ones to worsen. They would heal on their own, though. He’d be fine.

“If you end up injuring yourself even further, I’ll be very irritated,” Tobirama informed him but let it go. He simply walked back over to his desk and sat back down, going back to what he’d been doing before Madara had fallen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! The next chapter should be out soon.


	4. Of Injuries and Compromises

He and Madara had fallen into a strange and uneasy routine over the next couple of days. They tried their best to have as little to do with each other as possible. Tobirama had tried to keep Madara in the guest room, and out of his sight, but his father had told him that no slave was getting their own quarters, especially not Uchiha scum. He’d only had two options: put Madara back into the closet that he’d been in the morning that they’d talked about their situation, or keep him in his room.

He’d been tempted to just put him back into the closet and out of his sight. He couldn’t do that, though. He knew that Madara was injured, even if the fool refused to admit it. He needed a spot that he could rest and stretch out in an effort to heal. There was no way that was possible in the supply closet. That meant that he was under Tobirama’s feet and in his eyesight a great deal more than Tobirama would have liked. It also meant that he’d been spending more and more time out in the building that Hashirama had built for him.

He’d made no headway in his experimental jutsu, and it was starting to frustrate him. He normally prided himself of being stoic, but after the last failed attempt, he’d thrown the rabbit carcass into the door so hard that it’d cracked the wood and broken every bone in the bunny’s body. He wanted to just go back up into his room and take a break from it all, but knew that he’d be stuck looking at the Uchiha if he did.

Madara had been sleeping when Tobirama had slipped out before. That had been several hours ago. It was doubtful that the man was still asleep. He looked over at the clock that was mounted on the wall in between the door and a window and sighed. It was well past lunch time and Madara hadn’t eaten anything that day. The man was still suffering from the effects of going so long without anything to eat. He needed eat regularly if he was going to recover completely.

 _We beat the Uchihas,_ he thought to himself bitterly as he walked into the kitchen and grabbed the left-over meat from the night before. _If that’s so, then why am I turning into the man’s caregiver?_ He knew that it was because of Hashirama. Madara was wounded and needed his rest. If he didn’t heal properly, it could eventually kill him. He had no idea if Hashirama would consider it Madara’s fault for not seeking help or his own fault for knowing that he needed it and didn’t offer if that were to happen.

Tobirama used a fire jutsu underneath the plate to heat up some of the meat before putting the rest of it back up. Not bothering to fix himself anything, he went upstairs and entered his room.

It was still dark, but he figured that Madara hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights when he’d woken. It wasn’t like he had anything to occupy himself with anyway.

“Here’s some food, Uchiha,” Tobirama told him. “You’re going to need to get your strength up for the next two days. We’re leaving tomorrow to move to my house.”

No response.

“You can’t seriously still be asleep,” Tobirama said, flicking the lights on. Madara was laying where Tobirama had left him. On the floor, underneath a thin blanket. Tobirama had offered him a futon, knowing that sleeping directly on the floor would cause him even more pain than he was already in, but the stupid Uchiha had refused it. Tobirama honestly didn’t have to worry about being unnecessarily cruel to him. His damnable pride was what was going to make him suffer the most of all. It was ridiculous.

He sighed and put the food down on the bed and knelt next to Madara. The collar was still on, so unless Madara was able to manage some sort of super-speed without his chakra, then this certainly wasn’t a trap.

Sweat was rolling down Madara’s face, which was very strange. The weather was changing to fall, and the air had been chilly for the past couple of nights. His cheeks were a deep red and his breathing was harsh. Not liking what he was seeing, Tobirama brought the back of his hand up and felt Madara’s forehead. He hissed in protest. The man was hot enough to make him uncomfortable to the touch.

“This is not good,” Tobirama muttered to himself. He quickly pulled the blanket off Madara. Not even thinking of modesty at a time like this, he undid Madara’s robes and opened them. Tobirama’s teeth clenched together in anger as he looked down. Madara’s chest, stomach and sides were riddles with bruises and cuts.

Tobirama cursed, but ignored the wounds for now. He’d raise hell about them later. He moved to lift Madara up. The man was too hot, and Tobirama had to do something to lower his temperature before he died. He paused when he’d gotten Madara in a sitting position. There was blood on the floor. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to cause alarm.

He carefully held Madara while he maneuvered the older man’s arms out of the robe. He removed it, and winced in sympathy as the cloth stuck to the wound on his back. It was probably a good thing that Madara was unconscious. Once the robe was off him, Tobirama immediately rolled Madara so that he was laying on his stomach and swore as soon as he did.

Right between his shoulder blades sat a deep and long cut that spanned from one blade to the other. There was a ring of bright and angry red circling the wound and it was open, leaking out blood and puss. Tobirama looked at it uncertainly.

“You idiot,” he chastised Madara, even though the brute couldn’t hear him, “I told you to tell me about your injuries.” He was going to give this fool a piece of his mind when he woke up. Tobirama’s teeth clenched together in anger as he realized that in Madara’s condition, there was no guarantee. _If_ he woke up was probably more accurate.

Tobirama closed his eyes and inhaled slowly, gathering his chakra. He opened them back up and moved his hands to Madara’s collar. As soon as he pressed chakra into the lock, the collar opened and slid off his neck. Hopefully that might give him at least a little more strength to fight this with. He moved back to look at the wound and got to his feet. He didn’t know any medical jutsu that would disinfect a wound. He was going to have to do that on his own.

He gathered the necessary supplies from his bathroom and came to sit back down. He prayed that the infection hadn’t spread too far. If it went into his blood, things could get very bad very fast.

He immediately went to work, stopping every so often to look back down at Madara. The man’s face didn’t even contort into discomfort whenever Tobirama put a little alcohol on the wound in an effort to draw out some of the infection.

He did the best that he could, and was fairly certain that he’d gotten all of the infection out. He placed both of his hands over Madara’s wound. He pushed chakra to them and saw them starting to emit a green light. As he let it run over Madara’s wounds, Tobirama silently thanked his brother for teaching him this jutsu. He had never really thought that it would ever come in handy.

The skin in between Madara’s shoulder blades slowly started knitting itself back together. Tobirama didn’t want to completely close the wound in case it still had infection inside of it, but he was weary to keep it open because it could pick up more infections. He shrugged it off and closed it completely. If Madara still had complications, he’d take him to a real healer, his father’s anger be damned. It wasn’t like Madara would ever be very useful to him dead anyway.

He rushed to the bathroom and turned on the faucet, making sure that the water was lukewarm, boarding cool. He didn’t want to make it too cold and shock him in this state. Once the plug was in the drain, Tobirama rushed back to his room and rolled Madara over and picked him up. He got him to the bathtub and set him inside, not bothering to relieve him of the rest of his clothes.

Feeling a rush of lightheadedness, Tobirama sank to the ground next to the faucet and waited for the tub to get full enough before he shut it off. He was pleased to see Madara start shivering before he leaned his head back on the wall.

He’d used up more chakra than he’d originally thought. It wouldn’t hurt just to rest his eyes for a minute. He’d be fine. A moment later, all of his thoughts just fizzled out and he drifted off to sleep.

 

 

Madara woke up cold. Very cold. He immediately shivered and curled in on himself, but registered a splashing noise right before water entered his mouth. He spluttered and spat it out, sitting straight up. He looked around and saw that he was in a rather spacious bathroom, sitting in a large bathtub. The walls were a dark grey color, causing the entire room to seem darker. His vision was still blurry from sleep, and his mind was refusing to click onto where he was.

He saw a shadow leaning across from him outside of the bath. He got onto his knees and leaned forward for a closer look. It was Tobirama. He was sound asleep with the most serene look on his face that Madara had ever seen. It wasn’t the look of a stone-cold killer, or a heartless bastard. It was the look of a peaceful man, it was almost warm.

Madara’s throat closed at this. Tobirama shouldn’t ever look that way. The man was too cold and calculating. He was much too evil. He… _He’s the reason that I’m in this tub,_ Madara’s brain finally clicked. _He’s the reason that my back isn’t hurting anymore. If it was so bad that I didn’t wake up through any of it, then he’s the reason that I’m still alive._

Madara sighed and pushed himself out of the tub. He was weak, incredibly weak, but he could stand with the aid of the countertop. He reached underneath the sink and grabbed a towel and hurriedly started wiping his body off, trying to get dry before he got too cold. Once he figured that there was no more that he could do for himself, he removed the rest of his clothing and rushed into the bedroom and wrapped his threadbare blanket around his shoulders and tried to conserve some warmth.

He went back into the bathroom and shakily knelt down beside his ‘master’. He reached out and shook his arm. Tobirama stirred, and Madara found himself on the ground with a hand wrapped around his throat. Madara stiffened and latched onto Tobirama’s wrist, trying to wrestle it off, though he was no match for him at the moment.

“Shit,” he heard Tobirama curse as he immediately released Madara from his chokehold. Madara gasped and wheezed as he turned over, coughing in an attempt to push air out of his throat and gasping as an attempt to pull air in. There was a hand on his back, “Dammit. Are you alright, Uchiha?”

“Fine,” Madara managed to get out. His breathing started to even out again. He was faintly sure that he’d have more bruising around his neck, but it would be alright. It was just more to add to the extensive collection that his body was already showing off.

He felt his blanket starting to move off his body and quickly snatched it back so that it was around him again. He felt a hand at his back again and then an arm was wrapping around his shoulders, helping him sit up.

“I said I was fine,” Madara snapped. “I can sit up by myself.”

“You shouldn’t be pushing yourself yet,” Tobirama told him. “We need to talk, Uchiha.” Madara stiffened at the coolness in Tobirama’s voice. The man was quite obviously displeased.

“Are you going to send me off to be executed now?” Madara asked. He didn’t have much energy, but he was prepared to use the last dregs of it begging Tobirama to reconsider.

“I already told you that I wouldn’t see a man killed in cold blood,” Tobirama told him. “You’re not going to die by my hand.” Despite his reassuring words, Madara found himself flying into the air and pushed against the wall of the bathroom so hard that he was surprised that the wood behind him didn’t crack.

“What the hell?” Madara demanded, wincing at how weak his voice was.

“Shut up and listen to me, Uchiha,” Tobirama said to him. “I’m only going to say this once. You’re an idiot; did you know that? I’ve never seen a man that would beg for his life and then throw it away over too much pride to ask for help on a wound!”

Madara opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. Shame and embarrassment rolled through him at the mention of his disgraceful act a couple of days before. “I hate you,” Madara said quietly. “I hate you and your entire fucking family! Why would I ask for your help?!”

“I don’t care who you hate,” Tobirama snapped at him. “If you want to commit suicide, go and jump from the top of my house! Don’t do it slowly so that someone can stop you.” He shook Madara roughly and said, “What was the point of that dishonorable act that you pulled a few days ago, Uchiha? It was to save your brother, correct?”

Madara’s mouth clenched shut at the mention of Izuna. He didn’t know what Tobirama’s angle was. Was he planning on blackmailing him somehow with Izuna? “I begged for my life because I do not wish to die,” Madara lied.

“Don’t insult my intelligence,” Tobirama said. He released Madara from his hold. Madara’s legs were wobbly at best and he had to lean against the wall just to keep upright. “Look Uchiha,” Tobirama finally said. “I don’t want you here anymore than you want to be here. I truly believe that you’d rather be dead than to be a prisoner in this house, and I don’t blame you.” Madara opened his mouth to argue, but Tobirama cut him off before he could. “ _Shut up,”_ he snarled at Madara, “Let me talk before you open up your mouth and make everything worse!”

“Fine,” Madara muttered.

“If things were the other way around,” Tobirama told him, “I’d rather die than be your servant. The only thing that could convince me to go through with it is if Hashirama were threatened. I remember your face from when my father brought up Izuna. You want to make sure that this never happens to him. In order to make that work, you have to be alive.”

“I’m aware of that,” Madara snapped. He was totally aware of how precarious his situation was. He didn’t know why Tobirama was repeating all of these facts to him.

“I don’t think that you are,” Tobirama told him. “I walked into my room and you were unresponsive. You were burning with a fever and bleeding on the floor! I asked you about your wounds on that second day, and you lied to me.” Tobirama took a step closer to Madara and put his hands on the wall on either side of his head, and leaned so that they were eye-to-eye. Madara felt his heart thudding from nervousness. He didn’t like this at all. “I’m not asking for us to suddenly start caring about or liking each other. I know that’s never going to happen. What I’m asking for, is for you to work with me to save your life, if only for the sake of our brothers. Take the damn handout without kicking up a fuss, and don’t lie to me about things. I can’t do anything if I don’t know what’s going on, do you understand that?”

“What the hell is wrong with you people?” Madara finally found his voice again. He glared at Tobirama and snapped, “You and your brother are ridiculous! Why are you helping me?”

“I don’t know why Hashirama likes you,” Tobirama finally said. He moved away from Madara and made his way to the door. “From what I can see, you’re an ungrateful idiot that doesn’t know what he wants. I’m doing this because Hashirama cares about you, and I love my brother.” He walked out of the bathroom and left Madara standing inside alone with his thoughts.

He finally allowed his knees to buckle as he sank to the ground and put his face in his hands. He wanted to believe Tobirama, but he couldn’t. There was a part of him that refused to allow himself that sanctuary in an enemy.

Madara slowly pushed himself back to his feet and hobbled to the bedroom again. Tobirama was sitting on his bed, his legs crossed in front of him. There was a futon sitting on the floor. Tobirama looked at him as he made it to the doorway and stopped. The look on Tobirama’s face was all that Madara needed to see. There would be no arguments about this arrangement. He was going to take the futon and sleep on it.

“I’ll push back my move another couple of days so that you can rest,” Tobirama told him. “We’ll be leaving on Friday.”

Madara nodded silently. Tobirama got to his feet and walked to the door. “There’s clothes on the bed for you to change into. I’m going down to get us something to eat. Just sit in here and wait for me to get back.”

Tobirama left and as soon as the door shut, Madara shuffled over to the bed. His balance was improving. He only swayed a little while he was walking. Hopefully, he’d be better soon. Once he was able to move around on his own, he wouldn’t be so dependent on Tobirama. When that happened, he was certain that he would feel at least a little bit better about this entire situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't the biggest fan of this chapter. The argument seemed a bit unstructured, but I couldn't find another way to write it out. I hope that you enjoyed it anyway!


	5. Hashirama

Tobirama refused to let Madara do anything for the next two days. Sure, the Senju wasn’t around often, but he gave Madara strict instructions to just lay down and rest. Madara had attempted to ignore him on the first day. Tobirama had walked through the door and startled Madara, who had been simply going to attempt to take a shower. Having lost his concentration on staying upright, Madara crashed to the wooden floor and slammed his head against the nightstand.

He was still uncertain how Tobirama could so easily convey his annoyance in that low and quiet voice he had. He never yelled at Madara, and he never so much as frowned. There had been some swearing from both ends, but it finished up with Tobirama informing Madara that he was an idiot. Madara had been picked up and thrown onto the bed.

“You’re going to stay there,” Tobirama had told him. “You’re going to rest and you’re not getting back up unnecessarily. You can take a shower tomorrow before we leave.”

“Will you just quit helping me!?” Madara had snapped at him. His temper was frayed, and his nerves were shot. He couldn’t stand this anymore. “Honestly, I’m sick of this! Just quit trying to help!”

“I wouldn’t have to help you if you weren’t such a fool,” Tobirama told him coldly. He pushed the door to his room open and moved to step outside. “You’re getting your strength back more quickly because I removed that chakra binding collar. If you get up again unnecessarily, I’m going to put it back on you. It’ll sap all of your strength and you won’t be able to move at all.”

At that threat, Madara had stayed in bed. Not having his chakra had felt like having a part of his body removed. It wasn’t a sensation he was keen on experiencing again. Tobirama had gone in and out both days, and at night, Madara insisted that he take his bed back. Tobirama told him not to be stupid and just settled on the futon, falling asleep.

The two days went by quickly and Tobirama shook Madara awake Friday morning. “Get up, Uchiha,” he muttered to him. “We’re about to leave.”

Madara complied, sitting up. When he got to his feet, he was able to hold himself up a bit better. Tobirama looked at him and nodded in approval. “Go and get yourself ready. He reached over and grabbed something from the nightstand and handed it out to Madara. It was that collar.

Madara shook his head and backed up. “No,” he argued. “I’ve given you no reason to put that thing back on me. I’m not going out there without my chakra again!”

“My father doesn’t even know that you don’t have it on,” Tobirama told him sternly. “You’re going to put it back on at least until we get to the house.”

Madara just stared at Tobirama and made no move to take the collar. The Senju pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance and snapped, “You could try the patience of a saint, did you know that, Uchiha?”

He frowned at this but still didn’t move to take the collar. There were only so many blows that Madara could handle. This one stung nearly as bad as the rest of them did. This one felt like betrayal. Had he actually begun to trust Tobirama? No, that was impossible. He’d been trained since birth to distrust and hate the Senju. A few days with one was not enough to change his mind.

“I’m not putting that back on,” Madara told him. “I can’t stand it.” The vulnerability that came with it was enough to drive him insane. He remembered all of the kicks, slaps and slashes he’d endured on the way to the Senju compound. He couldn’t deal with that again. Not willingly.

“Look,” Tobirama said, “I’m exhausted, and I’m out of patience. I’ve been working these past two days to get everything ready for my house, all the while, coming back here to make sure that you haven’t killed yourself out of stubbornness. I’m going to need you to just swallow your pride for all of twenty minutes. When we make it to my home, you can take off the collar. Quit acting like a child and put the damn collar on.”

Madara growled and snatched to collar out of his hand before he turned around and stalked into the bathroom.

 

 

 

Tobirama watched Madara go, feeling a migraine starting to pound away in his skull. The younger Senju walked down the stairs, frustrated. He saw Eiji standing at the base of the stairwell. Eiji was a nice enough person that always seemed to be around with a listening ear for anyone that was having troubles. Tobirama himself had never spoken of his problems to him before, but Hashirama seemed to have opened up to their cousin quite a bit.

“Hello, cousin,” Eiji called up to him, waving. He was a taller man with a fairly muscular build. His brown hair was cut short and a well-trimmed beard and mustache circled his mouth. His brown eyes were light with kindness and excitement. “I was actually about to come up and get you and tell you the wonderful news. Your brother is back from his journey, and he’s brought along another guest.”

Tobirama stopped processing information after Eiji informed him that Hashirama was back. Hashirama was already back, and Tobirama had his best friend locked away in his bedroom. A best friend, and a housewarming gift. Efficiently hiding his panic, Tobirama bowed slightly and thanked Eiji for his message and quickly rushed downstairs.

His brother’s loud laugh was impossible to miss. Tobirama dashed outside and saw that Hashirama was standing out front on their porch. A beautiful woman with deep red hair was next to him. Tobirama immediately composed himself and turned to look at Hashirama, who was speaking to their father. Hashirama immediately cut himself off and turned to Tobirama. He felt himself become enveloped in a tight and uncomfortable hug for a moment. Tobirama normally would protest to the affection, but allowed it this once. It was probably the last time for a while that his brother would want to hug him at all.

Hashirama released him and smiled a blinding smile. “Hello, brother!” he said excitedly before backing up and pulling the redhead to his side, wrapping an arm around her waist and holding onto her firmly. “I’m glad that you came out. I want to introduce you to Mito Uzumaki. My fiancé.”

Tobirama looked at Mito uncertainly. He hadn’t remembered Hashirama mentioning a girl…ever. She was pretty, he supposed. Her hair was pulled up into twin buns on either side of her head. Her skin was clear and on the pale side, unlike his brother’s which was a nice olive tone. Her eyes were dark and shone with boundless intelligence. Tobirama took a step forward and bowed to her before taking her hand in his and kissing the back of it. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Uzumaki.”

Mito smiled at him and said, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lord Tobirama.”

Tobirama forced a cordial smile in her direction before he turned toward Hashirama. “I do hate to be rude,” Tobirama said with a carefully neutral tone, not wanting to give anything away before they were alone, “but is there any way that I could speak to you in privet for a few moments, brother?”

“Of course,” Hashirama nodded. Tobirama grabbed his shirt and was about to snatch him toward the lawn and hopefully go behind the house, but before he could, Butsuma beat him to it.

“I know what you’re going to say to him, son,” Butsuma said. “There’s no reason to be quiet about it. Hashirama has no love for the Uchihas anymore. He proved that on our last battle with them. Go ahead and say what’s on your mind.”

“My apologies, father,” Tobirama said, “I believe that this should be held more delicately. Please allow me and brother to go and speak to each other privately.”

“What happened to the Uchihas?” Hashirama questioned. Tobirama saw worry in his brown eyes and wanted to curse their father for putting it there.

“If you’re not going to tell him the wonderful news, then I shall, Tobirama,” Butsuma said. He turned to Hashirama and said, “We’ve got them all rounded up in a compound on the edge of our territory, so they won’t be able to bother anyone else for a long time.”

Hashirama looked horrified, but it was as though he might be able to move past that piece of information. Tobirama held his breath, praying that his father didn’t mention the other part.

“Why don’t you tell him what your old man got you for a housewarming gift?” Butsuma asked Tobirama, slapping him on the back.

Hashirama looked down at him, as though pleading for good news that Tobirama didn’t have to give him. Tobirama looked down at the floor, unable to stand the thought of looking at his brother in the eyes when he said, “Madara Uchiha.”

“Excuse me?” Hashirama asked. He didn’t sound angry or upset; he sounded confused.

“Uchiha is now my servant,” he told Hashirama. He did his best to keep his face blank, knowing that he couldn’t explain himself in front of his father. The only problem was, he knew that there was no way that he was going to be able to explain himself later either. Hashirama would never give him the chance. He’d be much too fired up about the injustice of it all, and Tobirama would be nothing more than a monster in the way of his pipedream of peace.

“Mito,” Hashirama said calmly. He turned and looked at her with a smile as he grabbed her hands in his. “I’m going to show you to your room. I need to have a conversation with my father and my brother. Would you mind waiting in there for me for a little while?”

“That’s fine,” she told him. She turned and quickly looked at Butsuma and Tobirama quickly before she turned and allowed herself to be led inside.

“I wonder what he feels the need to talk to us about?” Butsuma questioned lightly.

“I have an idea,” Tobirama said. “I’m heading out as soon as he’s finished talking to us.”

“Do you want any sort of party to celebrate your new house?” Butsuma asked.

“No, father,” Tobirama said. “I’ve never been fond of too many people. I just want to get settled in is all.”

“Very well, son,” Butsuma said. “I hope that you enjoy your new home and find use for my gift.”

Tobirama nodded. There was a small pit in his stomach that lit up with heat at the mention of his ‘gift’. He didn’t like Madara at all, but the man was still a human. He couldn’t stand the thought of so callously dehumanizing someone the way that his father had. The fact that it happened at all pissed him off. He walked back upstairs and toward his room. Before he could even make it down the hallway, however, Hashirama had his hand on his arm.

“What’s going on?” he asked Tobirama quietly. “You’re condoning slavery now?” The look on his brother’s face was one of utter betrayal, just like the one that he’d seen on Madara’s face earlier. Tobirama just looked up at his brother, saying nothing. What was there to say? “Please tell me that this is a joke, Tobirama. Please tell me that Madara isn’t actually here!”

“He is,” Tobirama said. He opened his mouth to explain himself, but the hurt on Hashirama’s face was enough to block his airway. There was nothing that he was going to be able to say to remedy this situation. His brother was already devastated and there was nothing that he was going to be able to do about it. Nothing that he said would change the situation from what it already was. “Just leave him alone and leave me be for right now. I’m trying to get all of my things together in order to leave out.”

“I’m not leaving this alone, Tobirama,” Hashirama told him. The grip on Tobirama’s bicep got firmer, the pressure was so much that he knew that it was going to leave a bruise. “This is wrong. It’s so wrong, and you know that! What happened to you?” That was the expression that Tobirama had been waiting for: disgust.

Swallowing back his sadness, Tobirama wrenched his arm from Hashirama’s grip and turned around. “I’m not talking about it right now,” Tobirama snapped at him.

He marched down the hall and stormed into his room. He attempted to shut the door in his brother’s face, not wanting to see his expression, but Hashirama was stronger and quicker than him. He pushed in after Tobirama and his brother heard the pause in footsteps.

Madara was sitting on Tobirama’s bed with his head down, looking at the floor. The man was dressed in some of Tobirama’s old clothes. They were a bit loose on him from the amount of weight that the man had lost in the first few days. Tobirama saw Madara stiffen, probably from hearing two steps of footsteps instead of one.

“Madara,” Hashirama breathed out.

“Sir?” Madara questioned. The word had started coming out easier, Tobirama noticed. Madara stood up slowly and turned around to face them. His eyes were totally dead, even as he looked away from Tobirama and settled his eyes on Hashirama.

“Don’t…what….” Hashirama sounded so confused. There was no telling what his face looked like; Tobirama just knew that he didn’t want to see it. He felt a hand on his shoulder and Tobirama was spun around and saw an expression on his brother’s face that he’d never seen before: anger. “What the hell is going on?!”

“Get out,” Tobirama advised him. “Do _not_ cause commotion in father’s house. He won’t take very kindly to it. You don’t want to cause a huge uproar with your fiancé here, do you?”

“This is wrong,” Hashirama told him. “That’s my _friend_ , Tobirama,” Hashirama cried. “That’s my best friend!”

“Get the hell out!” Tobirama finally snapped, losing his temper. He shoved his brother out of the room and slammed the door in his face before he could say anything else. That look, the one that told him that he was no more than a vile monster, stung too much to take for very long. He turned around to Madara, who was looking at him blankly. “Get ready to go,” he snarled.

“I am,” Madara said calmly. His tone sounded more deadened than usual. It was probably from seeing Hashirama all over again, or it could have been because of the collar that he was wearing on his neck.

“Where the hell are your shoes?” Tobirama snapped at him.

“I didn’t have any on when I came here,” Madara replied.

Tobirama sighed as he walked to his closet and dug inside. He tossed back an old pair of boots and some socks. “Put them on and hurry.”

Madara complied without any attitude. Once the shoes and socks were on his feet, he got back up. “Are you able to walk comfortably?” Tobirama asked him.

“Yes,” Madara said.

“Don’t lie to me, Uchiha,” Tobirama advised. “I’m not in the mood right now.”

Madara’s eyes flashed like his as he turned and looked at him. “I noticed. You think that I’m very pleased right now, Senju? I’m not! My best friend since childhood just saw me at my lowest! Do you know what I saw in his eyes? I saw pity!” Madara marched up to Tobirama and snarled, “I’m so sick of all this! I may have to be your bitch for the rest of my life, but I won’t be your responsibility! Give me some fucking pride, that’s all I want. Let me take care of myself! I don’t want your sympathy or your damn pity!”

“I don’t give a damn about your pride, Uchiha!” Tobirama informed him coldly. “I’m more concerned with how you’ll fare on the walk. I don’t want to be stuck carrying you all the way to the new settlement any more than you want me carrying you!”

“I promise you that you won’t be carrying me,” Madara growled at him, “I’d sooner drag myself, face-first through the dirt than to every have your filthy touch on my again.”

Tobirama sighed and backed away from Madara before he gave into his urge to strike the man. It wasn’t the first fight that they’d had, and he certainly doubted that it would be the last. He just turned around and said, “Let’s go.”

He walked out of his room, with Madara behind him, doubtlessly curious about why nothing in his room had been touched. He’d be leaving the majority of his possessions there were already at his house where they were in case he ever decided to come by for a visit. It was at his father’s suggestion, though he doubted that he would ever want to come back and stay when his home was only twenty minutes away on foot. That was at civilian pace, of course, which they would have to be traveling at because Madara’s lack of chakra.

There was no one in the hallway when he walked out. That he was thankful for. He heard raised voices coming from the end of the hall, where he knew his father’s study was. Butsuma and Hashirama must be getting into an argument about human rights that Hashirama would lose. Hopefully it didn’t come back on him, though. He didn’t know how much more anger directed at him he could take before he did lash out.

Eiji was waiting at the door with a sad smile, obviously the only one that was going to see him off. “Good luck with your new house,” Eiji told him. “I’m sure that your brother will come around to this. After all, the Uchiha are no better than scum.”

Tobirama turned and looked at Madara, who just lowered his head even more.

“Goodbye, Eiji,” Tobirama said as he and Madara exited the house. Eiji waved at them for a few more moments before he shut the door and went back inside.

“Your cousin is a real asshole,” Madara commented quietly as they made it to the road.

“He fought in the war against your clan,” Tobirama said. “Did you expect anyone from my clan to like you or any other Uchiha? They’ve had to dehumanize you and your entire clan, just like I’m certain your clan did to us. We’re monsters from the forest, correct? It’s easier to kill things that aren’t human.”

Madara was silent for a few moments. “What do you think of the Uchiha?”

“I think that you’re all a bunch of barbaric assholes,” Tobirama said quietly. “You’re still human, though.” That mentality had probably come from spending extended periods of time with both his father and brother. Both of their points of views warred in his mind for dominance before he was finally old enough to make his own call. “I hate all of you, but I’m not a murderer.”

At the thought of Hashirama, a pain flared in his chest. It was the ache of disappointing one of the most precious people in the world to him. His brother was the only person he felt any true loyalty to. His brother was the man that he looked up to and wanted to please. Instead, he had managed to disgust Hashirama and his brother, incapable of hating anyone, most likely hated him.

As if sensing his mood, Madara didn’t say anything else for the remainder of the walk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eiji Senju is just a necessary OC at this point in time. I don't want you thinking that he's an intrusive character that's going to just completely take over the story line (i really freaking hate that when that happens by the way). There weren't enough Senju, so I had to make another one.
> 
> Aside from that...now Hashirama has found out! A couple of you guys mentioned something about this scene, and I hope that it did not disappoint! 
> 
> Any thoughts on what is going to happen next?


	6. Repercussions

The house was nice. It was small with two bedrooms. A single bathroom was in the hallway, meant to be shared between the occupants of both rooms. The kitchen was a nice size, however, with plenty of room to move around and cook. That surprised Madara a lot. Tobirama never struck him as the type of man to stand around and cook meals. He guessed that the same could be said for himself. He was a fierce warrior. No one expected him to be handy in the kitchen.

His own mother had forced him to learn the basics while he was still too young to fight, stating that women would find a man that had this kind of skill very attractive. Madara had enjoyed it so much that he’d kept learning different techniques as he got older.

There was a large family room for the size of the house that sat in front of the kitchen with a sofa, loveseat, and recliner. It was homey, something that he didn’t figure a place that Tobirama owned would ever be.

Tobirama had allowed him to look around as soon as they stepped inside. The Senju, on the other hand, had simply gone to the sofa and sat down, looking surprisingly tired. Madara figured that it was because of his brother. Hashirama had looked outraged. He and Madara had faced each other on the battlefield more times than Madara could really count, and he had never seen Hashirama look so unhappy. That alone had probably taken quite a bit out of the younger sibling. It was never a good feeling when you fought with loved ones. Madara just mentally shrugged it off. It was none of his business at all. Besides, he knew they’d be back to normal soon enough. Hashirama was too much of a softie to keep grudges.

While Madara was checking out the bedrooms, he heard footsteps. He was in the guest room, looking at the bed. It was large, probably a queen, and looked very soft and comfortable. He slowly turned around and saw Tobirama moving toward him. He didn’t say a word as Tobirama nearly invaded his personal space. A pale hand reached up to his neck and Madara felt a surge of chakra near his skin. A moment later, the collar fell to the ground with a _clank_.

“Put it in the bottom drawer of the nightstand,” Tobirama said. “I doubt that you’ll ever need to use it again, but just in case.”

Madara grabbed the collar and complied immediately. As much as he hated being so obedient, Tobirama was obviously in a foul mood. This would be one of the times that Madara just kept his mouth shut. Tobirama could tell his father that he was unhappy with Madara at any time. It would mean the death of everyone in his clan.

“This is your room,” Tobirama said quietly. “Just stay here and don’t bother me.”

Without another word, the man exited the room, and Madara watched him go. As soon as his door was shut, Madara let out a breath that he hadn’t realized that he was holding in. He felt something stirring in his stomach, but immediately shut the feeling down. It wasn’t any of his business. He was a prisoner, and seeing his captors upset should bring him joy.

_Then why are you concerned?_

He mentally told himself to shut up. He would stay out of it. Tobirama was emotionless, like a robot. The man would bounce back quickly. It took emotions to stay upset with something for too long. That was something that Tobirama obviously didn’t have.

 

Two weeks passed by in the same routine. Tobirama was gone before Madara woke up, and didn’t come back until Madara went to sleep. It was fine by Madara, who made sure to keep up the house and make himself scarce. There was always food in the cupboards, and Madara always made sure to make enough for Tobirama to eat whenever he decided to come in. Sometimes the food would be touched, and other times it wouldn’t. It allowed Madara to get a feel for Tobirama’s taste buds, though it was too early to tell much about the man’s preferences. He seemed to dislike anything remotely sweet, which was fine by Madara, who had never been big on sweets himself. He appreciated fish, that much Madara was certain. He’d devoured the fried fish that he’d made the third night that they’d been at the new house.

Despite hating the fact that he was living with Tobirama in the first place, he had to admit that he appreciated it when Tobirama ate. It made him feel as though he was doing something to be helpful.

What he found the eighth day that he’d been there confused him. There had been an empty liquor bottle on the floor near the couch. Tobirama had never struck him as someone that drank, and certainly not someone that drank heavily enough to consume an entire bottle. Madara shrugged it off. It was none of his business at all if the man wanted to destroy his liver.

_Maybe you’ll get lucky, and he’ll keel over from natural causes._

Madara felt like a total ass immediately after he thought that. He couldn’t say that he wished for Tobirama to die. He may not like him, but wishing death upon someone required a greater deal of hatred than that. It was something that Madara just didn’t feel. Even if that wasn’t the reason, he had no reason to believe that he would be allowed back to his family if Tobirama died. He had no guarantee that the person that he was sent to next was as uncaring as Tobirama. Madara refused to think of his treatment as kind, but he would admit that it was better than what some of the Senju would do to him. He knew that he was universally hated in this compound. Everyone had lost someone to an Uchiha, and he didn’t know how many people were virtuous enough to forgive the deaths of their loved ones.

He sighed as he opened the fridge. There was more fresh fish inside. He supposed that he could bake some for that night. It would be a way to apologize for the mental snipe that he’d made at Tobirama. He knew that it would be eaten for sure.

He made his way to the backyard and began cleaning the fish. He was concentrating on his task so hard that he didn’t hear the door open again to admit another person outside. He jumped when he heard the door slam shut. The knife came up and sliced a nice gash into his thumb. He swore and jumped back, dropping he knife, and it went clattering to the ground. He spun around and saw Tobirama standing in front of the door.

“You’re back early,” Madara observed. He winced as his thumb throbbed. He cradled it in his hand and started applying pressure, hoping to stop the bleeding. “I need to get to the bathroom,” Madara said, taking a couple of steps toward Tobirama. The man didn’t move, and when Madara was maybe four feet from him, he realized why. The stench of alcohol that wafted from him was so potent that Madara was certain that the man didn’t know what was going on, much less comprehend that he needed to push past him.

Madara just stared up at the sky. _Why me? Why now? I am_ not _babysitting a drunken idiot!_ He forcefully pushed Tobirama out of the way. The Senju’s balance was nearly nonexistent, and it was easy to do so. He stumbled into the railing and Madara stormed into the house, pushing into the bathroom a moment later, cursing to himself as he got the alcohol and peroxide from underneath the sink. He opened both bottles while grumbling to himself.

How had he managed to get trashed before sunset? Sure, it was almost dark, but that wasn’t the point! He knew that Tobirama had a job. He was pretty sure it was training brats from the village on how to be ninja. Madara might not have cared any about the Senju, especially not Tobirama, but he loved children. If Tobirama had been drinking in front of kids, he would kill him!

“What are you doing?” Tobirama asked. His voice wasn’t really slurred, but Madara knew that meant very little.

“You made me cut myself,” Madara informed him callously as he poured some peroxide over the wound. “It was a disgusting knife with fish guts on it. I’m trying to clean it before it gets infected.”

“I’m sorry,” Tobirama told him.

Madara sighed as a deprecating smile formed on his face. He was fairly sure that was the only time that he would ever hear that particular Senju apologize and actually mean it. So Tobirama was one of those annoying, but nice drunks. Madara just rolled his eyes. As long as he didn’t turn cuddly, he imagined that it wouldn’t be too bad.

“I think that you need to go and lay down,” Madara informed him once he’d wrapped his finger up. He didn’t want to bleed all over his food. “You’re drunk, and you should sleep the alcohol off.”

“I am drunk,” Tobirama agreed slowly with a nod. “I don’t wanna sleep, though.”

“It wasn’t a suggestion,” Madara informed him. He turned Tobirama around and pushed him out of the doorway of the bathroom. Tobirama stumbled and tipped forward. Madara cursed and reached around, pulling the younger man against him, stopping the collision with the floor before it happened.

“You can be really nice,” Tobirama informed him quietly while his face was pressed against Madara’s neck. The warm breath made him shiver despite the horrible situation. How long had it been since he’d held someone this close? Too long to remember.

His eyes had closed at the sensation and he leaned into the embrace. The warmth was comforting and gentle, enveloping him in a cocoon of safety. He slumped slightly forward, relishing the relaxation that came with the closeness. He inhaled deeply in his nose, and felt his stomach lurch at the stench of the alcohol, immediately breaking the illusion.

He gasped, realizing what he was doing and pushed Tobirama away. The Senju tried to grab at him again, but Madara slipped out of his grip before he could get a good hold. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Madara snapped at him, completely ignoring that he was panicking, and his heart was beating wildly.

“You’re warm,” Tobirama mumbled as he reached out toward him again almost pleadingly. “I’m cold, can you just warm me up just a little?”

“Your blankets can do that,” Madara informed him. He shook his head, knowing that there was no point in arguing with someone so intoxicated. “You need to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” Tobirama whined.

Madara blinked. That was a whine. Senju just whined. His jaw dropped. Drunk or not, that tone should never come out of the Senju’s mouth. It was almost…cute. “Oh, _hell_ no!” Madara exclaimed. He grabbed onto Tobirama’s wrist and dragged him further down the hallway. He pushed open the left door and marched inside. He looked around and gaped. Sake bottles were _everywhere._

“What the hell, Senju?” Madara exclaimed. He’d been on the fast road to liver cancer from the looks of it. There were enough bottles to supply a Christmas party, and they were all empty.

“Are you mad at me?” Tobirama asked him in a small voice. “I don’t want you to be mad at me too.”

 _Don’t ask. Don’t ask. Don’t ask!_ “Who else is mad at you?” Madara questioned anyway.

“Hashirama,” Tobirama told him. “I think he hates me.”

“Your brother doesn’t hate you,” Madara said firmly as he dragged Tobirama toward the bed. “Your brother doesn’t hate you, and he shouldn’t be angry with you.” It wasn’t like any of this was within Tobirama’s control anyway.

“Yes, he does,” Tobirama insisted. “He hates me, and it hurts!”

Madara was silent, wondering how he was supposed to respond to that. _Remember how you promised yourself that you weren’t going to babysit a drunk? You literally just said that!_ Madara just scowled at the mocking voice inside of his head. He really had just said that, but what was he supposed to do?

 _You could just leave him in here to take care of himself. Judging from the bottles, he’s been doing it since you guys got here, and he hasn’t died yet._ That was true, but Madara wasn’t that much of an asshole. He couldn’t simply leave the man like this when he was hurting so much. He wasn’t heartless, no matter what the rumors said.

Tobirama looked at him, obviously confused. Madara had stopped halfway to the bed, but he still had a grip on Tobirama’s wrist. “Look Senju,” Madara sighed. “You’re having problems with you brother, but alcohol’s not the answer.” Tobirama looked at him uncertainly, and Madara knew that everything that he was saying wasn’t reaching the Senju, but he had to think of something. “You can’t just drown out your issues because your upset.”

“I don’t want to be sad,” Tobirama told him. “I’m doing the best that I can, and everyone is expecting me to do things that I can’t. I don’t want you here against your will. You’re not as bad of a person as I thought you were, and you’re putting up with all of this for such good reasons that I feel like even more of an ass. It feels like it’s my fault. I feel like there’s something that I should be doing to stop it, because I don’t want Hashirama looking at me like it’s my fault. This is supposed to be peace, but it feels worse than when I was at war. I feel like I’m in total hell right now. I just don’t know what I’m supposed to do!”

Madara had to agree with that sentiment. It really did feel worse than being at war ever did. Tobirama sounded so helpless. Was this really how he felt this entire time? The man had seemed to have everything put together. It was as though he’d had all of the answers that eluded Madara. He’d been calm and collected, giving him instructions and telling him how to act. He was actually lost from the sound of it, grasping for the correct way to go about things. He’d just been dancing around, trying his best to make everyone else happy while he had this load of issues shoved to him. He had no idea what he was doing, and he wasn’t handling the pressure very well.

He guessed in a situation like that, nearly anyone would be driven to drink. Madara stiffened his jaw. Tobirama was too trashed to remember anything the next morning. He was certain of that, so he reached out and cupped Tobirama’s cheek with his hand and pushed his face so that Tobirama was looking at him. “Listen to me,” Madara told him gently. “You’re not a bad person. You’re doing the best that you can with this shitty situation. I don’t blame you for what happened, and your brother shouldn’t either. I’m going to put things right, okay?”

Tobirama smiled at him and nuzzled into his palm. Madara’s cheeks flared at the affectionate gesture. Tobirama was too drunk to be accountable for anything that he did, but it still made Madara uncomfortable. He pulled his hand away and turned Tobirama away from him and pushed him to his bed. Tobirama sat down, and Madara knelt in front of him. He pulled his shoes and socks off and helped him out of his shirt. He maneuvered Tobirama so that he was laying down and then covered him with the blankets.

Madara turned away from him, praying that the fish that he’d just left outside was remotely salvageable. Before he could move, however, Tobirama had grabbed his wrist. The hold would have been easy enough to break, but Madara allowed himself to be stilled and he turned and looked at Tobirama. “Yes, Senju?” Madara asked.

“Thank you,” he mumbled before letting him go.

Madara couldn’t stop the smile that spread on his face before he nodded. So, the Senju was a cute drunk. Madara didn’t think that there was such a thing as an endearing drunk. Leave it to that one to manage it. He really had been defying Madara’s expectations as of late.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you all enjoyed the chapter and that small Madara/Tobirama moment I threw in! I know that it was kind of sad, but the ending was a bit hopeful, right? Let me know what you think!


	7. A Painful Morning

Tobirama woke up in the morning with a splitting headache. The curtains in his room had been tightly shut so that nearly no light at all peered through. He woke up with the cover held tightly over his head, as though in unconsciousness, he was already anticipating the pain that was going to happen when he came to.

“Serves you right,” a low voice came from the doorway. He had no idea how Madara had even known that he was awake. He’d have to question the man about that creepy ability later, right now he had more pressing issues: like the fact that his skull felt like it would have to burst before the pressure released.

Tobirama said nothing in return as Madara walked inside. He didn’t look or say anything. The blankets were snatched from Tobirama’s hands and pulled nearly off the bed so that Tobirama wouldn’t be able to just grab them again. “Here,” Madara said gruffly. He sat a large cup of water down on the table and a couple of pills. “I don’t know if you know any medical jutsu that can cure hangovers; if not, just take these and come out to the kitchen. I made some breakfast. Having something other than alcohol in your stomach will probably help quite a bit.”

Tobirama grinded his teeth at that remark. He could hear the condescending tones in Madara’s voice. He cracked an eye open and saw Madara standing over him with his arms crossed over his chest. His face was mostly neutral, except for the air of superiority. He honestly didn’t even know if that was a facial expression or not. He’d seen it so many times in battle that he could just feel it now like an enveloping aura.

It was annoying.

Tobirama was in too much pain to be annoyed. He just snatched the pills up and chugged the glass of water. He’d had to be painstakingly slow in order to not upset his head again. When he’d finally finished drinking, he slowly turned and looked at Madara, who was still standing above him. “Are you going to be able to move around on your own?” Madara questioned, his voice blessedly quiet.

“I’m hungover,” Tobirama snapped at him, “not an invalid.”

Madara smiled, but it was a sharp kind of smile that Tobirama had only seen when he was moving in for the kill on one of his enemies. Tobirama tensed, wondering if Madara was going to take this as an opportunity to kill him or not. It would be a good plan, honestly, though he didn’t know what Madara would do after Tobirama was dead.

Instead of physically killing him, Madara just went the mental route and started speaking. “I was asking because of all of the liquor bottles I cleaned out of here last night. There had to have been over twenty, and I’m trying to figure out how you’re not in the hospital or in the morgue.”

“Go to hell, Uchiha,” Tobirama snarled, or at least it was supposed to be a snarl. It came out as more of a whimper than anything else. Madara laughed at this, and if Tobirama wouldn’t have been in pain, he probably would have stopped and listened to the oddly beautiful noise. Instead, he just pushed himself into a sitting position and closed his eyes, fighting against the rolling nausea in his gut.

“By the way that you’re going at it, you’ll get there first,” Madara informed him. He turned around and walked back toward the hall. He turned just enough to face Tobirama and smirked at him as he said, “Because I’m certainly not going to stop you from giving yourself alcohol poisoning.”

Tobirama groaned lowly as Madara walked out of the room. The man looked way too happy, but Tobirama found that he really didn’t care. His head was pounding, and he was more than a little dizzy as he stood up. His stomach rolled around, but Tobirama forced himself to ignore it as he walked out of the bedroom and into the bathroom.

He took a long shower, hoping that he hot water would help with the headache, and the overall horribleness that he felt. When he got out, he brushed his teeth a few times, trying to get the taste of old alcohol off his breath. He’d drank a considerable about throughout the entire two weeks, but last night had been the worst.

He’d gone over to his father’s manor after being summoned for a meeting the day before. It hadn’t gone well. He and Hashirama had gotten into it again. His brother had been unable to make any headway with his father, and had decided that arguing about it with Tobirama would somehow help, even though he had no say in the matter at all. It had been a bad fight, probably the worst one that they’d ever had, and there had only been a handful of arguments to even compare it with. It had ended with Tobirama apologizing to their father and leaving after Hashirama basically called him a sadistic monster. That had really hurt; it’d stung a lot. Tobirama didn’t feel strongly about much; emotions had been a pretty foreign concept to him for a long time, but his brother being so disgusted and disappointed in him had opened up a reservoir of pain that he hadn’t even realized he’d been capable of feeling.

Tobirama quickly pulled on a pair of pants and just wore a bathrobe to the kitchen. Madara was seated at the table with a cup of coffee. When Tobirama walked to the other side and pulled out a chair, Madara immediately stood up and walked to the counter. A moment later, a steaming plate of eggs and toast was sitting in front of him along with a cup of coffee. “Would you prefer that I move somewhere else?” Madara asked him quietly.

“I don’t care,” Tobirama told him, turning toward the plate. He grabbed the coffee and took a small sip, not wanting to scald himself. “I actually have a question.”

“What is it?” Madara asked, taking his original seat across from him. The man looked hesitant, as though he’d rather be anywhere else.

“I don’t remember anything about last night,” Tobirama admitted. “I’m guessing that you do. Did…did I tell you anything?”

Madara looked at him with a frown. The silence spanned a few uncomfortable seconds and Tobirama found himself getting uneasy. He finally relented after what felt like hours. “You’re not a very coherent drunk,” Madara shrugged. “I’m sure that you said a lot, but I couldn’t understand any of it. I just made you go to bed, and you passed out.”

“Ah,” Tobirama said, feeling relieved. “Ok.”

“If you are attempting to hide something from me, however,” Madara continued with a raised eyebrow, “I’d suggest that you quit with all of the liquor. You never know; next time your gibberish might be a bit more coherent and I might figure it out.”

Tobirama was silent for a few moments. Guilt was squirming in his stomach and he was beginning to feel awkward from the entire ordeal. “My apologies for last night if my behavior was unseemly. I have no desire to make you uncomfortable in anyway.” It was the truth. He’d rather not associate with the Uchiha, but Madara hadn’t given him any problems at all with their arrangement since they’d been there, and the last thing that he wanted was for something to upset their routine.

Madara raised an eyebrow at Tobirama’s admission as he sipped on his coffee. “It’s nothing that I’m not already used to,” he said with a shrug. “My father didn’t handle war or pressure very well. He drank heavily any time that we weren’t in battle.” He didn’t say anymore on the matter, but from the almost sad look in Madara’s eyes, Tobirama was willing to bet that their father hadn’t been a kind drunk at all.

The thought angered Tobirama. Parents should value their children as much as their children should value them. Children in this world should cling onto innocence as long as they could before they lost it to war and violence, and they certainly shouldn’t lose it because of family.

“I expected you to be gone already,” Madara said, quickly changing the topic. “You’re never here during the day. Shouldn’t you be training little hellions right now?”

Tobirama’s lips twitched slightly, but he shook his head. “I’m not working today. There’s a two-day clan meeting going on. The first one was yesterday, and it’ll be finished off today.”

Madara’s expression changed, if only by a fraction. It wasn’t enough to gage what the look was about, but something had clicked in his head. “I’d like to come along,” Madara said lightly, looking down at his cup. His voice was nonchalant, as though he couldn’t care less about Tobirama’s answer, but Tobirama knew better. He picked it up his mug and took a sip out of it before looking up at Tobirama. His expression was blank again, not giving anything away.

“Why would you want to do that?” Tobirama asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No real big reason,” Madara shrugged as he took another sip of his coffee. “I’ve been in this house for over a week now, and I haven’t left. I’m not accustomed to be cooped up in one space with nothing else to do.”

Tobirama wanted to point out that Madara was a slave, and the entire point of all of this was to make him miserable. It was a bit much for him to ask Tobirama to go out of his way to make him anymore comfortable. It wasn’t that going back to that house would make him any more comfortable anyway.

“You do understand that if you go, you’ll be forced back into wearing that collar again?” Tobirama questioned. Madara had pitched a fit when they’d been relocating, and he’d had to put the collar back on. He couldn’t see the Uchiha being okay with a repeat of that if there was any way to get out of it.

Madara’s neutral expression tightened, but he nodded all the same. “I’m aware.”

“Okay,” Tobirama said, “now I _know_ you’re up to something. What is it?”

Madara sighed and another sharp smile curled onto his lips. “Nothing at all,” he shrugged. “I just want to see my best friend for a few minutes is all.”

“You’re not going to try and plan a coup d’état with my idiot brother, are you?” Tobirama questioned. “I hate to say it, but I doubt that it'll work. Hashirama is powerful, that’s for certain, but he loves his clan a bit too much for that.” At least, Tobirama hoped that was still the case.

“Not a bad plan,” Madara informed him dryly, “the only problem with that is my clan is too far away, and I don’t even know where my father and brother are. I’m not risking their lives like that. For some sort of personal gratification.”

Tobirama remained silent, and just took a bit of eggs as he waited for Madara to continue talking.

“For old time’s sake,” Madara finally relented. “I’m stuck here all of the time, and I need to get out. I figured that Hashirama would be a good excuse for it. I’ll even put that damned collar on to appease your father.”

Tobirama wracked his brain for an angle that Madara could use. He couldn’t think of any at all. Tobirama sighed and nodded. He guessed that it wouldn’t hurt anything. If anything at all, his father seeing him with Madara might please the man a little. It would imply that Tobirama was getting some use out of him, even if the only thing that the Uchiha had brought with him was stress and brotherly issues.

“Get that collar on and meet me out here quickly. We have to leave soon,” Tobirama instructed, as he finished off the last bite of his breakfast.

Madara was quite the cook, much to his surprise. Tobirama was total and complete trash in the kitchen; he was faintly sure that he would be able to burn water if he tried hard enough. With that being the case, Tobirama had never been a very picky eater. If the food wasn’t completely burnt, he’d be able to scarf it down. The fact that he eggs had been fluffy and the toast had been cooked perfectly, not to dark and not too light, was amazing.

He stood up and walked over to the sink, dropping his dishes inside. He’d do them when he got back. He walked back into his bedroom and grabbed a black shirt from the closet. Because this was a shinobi meeting, he had to be in uniform. He pulled his armor on over his shirt and quickly walked back into the front room. Madara was standing there, waiting for him. He was grimacing as he pulled the collar around his neck and latched it back on.

“Is it a painful experience?” Tobirama questioned. If it was, that would make sense for his resistance.

“No,” Madara replied. “It’s not painful at all. You don’t even know that you have no chakra until you attempt to pull on it and can’t. It’s like your entire highway is stopped and won’t move forward to allow you to attempt a jutsu. It’s a pretty good idea, actually. You wouldn’t want all of your prisoners to die of chakra depletion from a single attempted attack.”

Tobirama was always struck speechless when Madara made comments like this. It’d happened a couple of times since he’d been given over to Tobirama. The man was intelligent, very intelligent. It was something that Tobirama hadn’t really given him credit for while they were fighting. He’d acknowledged his battle prowess without any trouble. It was impossible to deny what was right in front of you, after all, but he had never assumed that any of the Uchiha were overly intelligent. It was probably due to the fact that his father had raised him and all of his brothers with the thought that the Senju were better than the Uchiha in every way and that they needed to be annihilated because they were totally evil.

When Tobirama looked at Madara, he wondered how much of the things that his father said were true. Madara was smart, powerful, and cared about his family. He was a lot like Hashirama from what Tobirama could tell…just less of a soft-hearted, blubbering idiot.

“It is,” Tobirama finally said. “May I ask why you hate that collar so much, then? If it’s not painful, then I can’t see the reason you’d be so against it.”

Madara was silent for a moment before he shrugged. “I just don’t like being bossed around, is all. There’s no specific reason.”

Tobirama knew that he was lying, but he kept silent. It was none of his business, and if he wanted to keep it to himself, that was fine. He didn’t even know why he was so hellbent on figuring it out anyway.

“Let’s go,” Tobirama said quietly. He led the way out of the door and waited until Madara was out before he locked it. He turned around and faced the small neighborhood that they lived in. The houses were all small, and the lots of yards were huge, allowing him quite a bit of space and privacy from his nearest neighbors.

Madara fell in line behind him, walking just to his right as they moved quickly through the streets. The sight of the Uchiha caused many people to turn and stare. It didn’t faze Tobirama, but he could almost feel the frustration emitting from Madara. He could understand why; the stares were smug, mocking and condescending. He knew that Madara wanted to see Hashirama, but the ridicule that he was going through on the walk alone was enough to make it not worth it. Why not just ask Tobirama to pass on the question?

Tobirama knew that Madara had seen he and Hashirama argue over him once, but with Hashirama’s personality, it would have been safe to assume that they’d made up already. Madara hadn’t even asked for that, as if he knew they hadn’t. Then again, it could just be because he’d see it as being in Tobirama’s debt because he’d done him a favor. Madara’s mind seemed to work in complex ways, but Tobirama was too weary to even really consider trying to depict it. If he wanted to withstand the ridicule that the entire Senju clan had to throw at him, who was Tobirama to tell him no?

“What are you doing out here with _him_?” a woman’s voice hit Tobirama’s ears when they were halfway to his father’s home.

Tobirama turned and saw his cousin walking toward him. She was a pretty woman with dark hair pulled back in a simple knot and bangs falling down, covering one eye. Despite her words, she was grinning at him as she reached the pair.

Tobirama just shrugged. He saw no reason to hide it from Toka, of all people. “He wanted to come, so I let him come.”

“You do realize that he’s a slave; it’s not supposed to be about what he wants, right?” Toka questioned him, raising an eyebrow.

“He’s right there, you know,” Tobirama said. “If you’re really curious about it, talk to him.”

Toka immediately turned away from Tobirama, who continued walking. He didn’t have to turn around to know that they had started following him. Toka immediately spoke to Madara. “You know that your brother is a bit of a playboy. I’ve never heard of someone that seriously flirted with the person that was in charge of their imprisonment.”

“You’ve seen Izuna?” Madara asked. His voice was carefully controlled, as though not wanting to give away any weaknesses. That was one weakness that would be exploited to its maximum benefit. “Is he alright?”

“He is right now,” Toka said. “If he makes another comment about how my ass looks in armor, he’s not going to be.”

Madara let out a breath that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle.

“I’m going ahead,” Toka told Tobirama. “I’ll tell Butsuma that you’re running a little late, but you’re on your way.”

Tobirama just nodded before he felt her chakra signature jump up and take off, flying toward a rooftop and moving further away. “Your brother sounds like an idiot,” Tobirama observed. “I always assumed that he had a little bit of sense. He managed to survive so long in battle.”

“He is an idiot,” Madara confirmed quietly. “He’s nearly on the same level as your own brother. I’m pretty sure that mine is that way because of all of the times he was dropped as a baby.”

Tobirama smiled at that small joke as he contemplated what made Hashirama the idiot that he was. He couldn’t really think of anything specific. He wasn’t dropped when he was younger, or at least Tobirama didn’t recall hearing about it. “Hashirama’s stupidity probably comes from genetics,” Tobirama finally said. “It’s the only thing that I can think of.”

Madara made a small noise of acknowledgement in the back of his throat as they continued walking in what almost felt like a companionable silence. Tobirama knew better, however. They were both being civil because it would be more convenient for both of them than it would for them to act otherwise. It made absolutely no sense to fight and argue when it would get them nowhere. Madara also had another reason: his family’s entire existence was solely based on his behavior at this compound. They wouldn’t survive if Madara couldn’t keep his act together. That pressure alone made Tobirama almost pity the man.

 

 

Madara hated that damned collar. It was the worst kind of torture device that the Senju could have ever come up with! He had to fight back the urge to attempt to yank it off in anger. He knew that he should be grateful that Tobirama allowed him to take it off in the first place with the risk that it potentially posed to him, but all that had done was spoil him, for lack of a better word. He wasn’t accustomed to having the blasted thing on anymore, and disliked the sensation more than ever when he had to experience it again.

His entire body felt heavier, and he knew that he was moving at a slower pace than he would normally be. It gave him a healthy respect for civilians. How did they get around like this all the time? It had never taken him twenty minutes to get anywhere within one village before; it was ridiculous and time consuming. How did anyone ever get anything done on time? Never mind that, how did they handle the vulnerability of walking around without being able to form a jutsu to protect themselves if something were to come up and try and hurt them?

They were still ten minutes out when that Senju woman left them behind, and it felt like the longest ten minutes of his life. Part of him felt more elated than he had during his entire imprisonment at the news that Izuna was alive. Another part of him felt even more dread. His brother had always had a hard time resisting pretty, powerful women, no matter what clan they were from. If Izuna didn’t learn some self-control soon, his guard was going to gut him.

“Whatever you do,” Tobirama said as soon as their destination was in sight. “Keep your mouth shut and your eyes down. I want you to go straight to my room and stay there. I’ll send Hashirama up to see you if he has a chance. Don’t speak to him in public unless he’s obnoxious about it. Don’t sound familiar, and—”

“Quit talking to me like I’m an idiot,” Madara said sharply. “I’m aware of how I should act. I know what will get me killed, believe it or not.”

Tobirama stopped in his tracks and spun around, his red eyes had an irritated glow in them that Madara hadn’t seen in a while. It was almost a relief. “This is serious, Uchiha,” Tobirama growled at him. “Quit being a smartass, and just do as I say.”

That command came as a slap to the face. Madara stiffened before he bowed curtly. “Yes, _master,”_ he said quietly. He kept his eyes on Tobirama’s as he did so, being sure to mock him as much as he could with the movements.

Tobirama’s jaw stiffened. “You’re lucky you have that collar on,” he informed him. “If you didn’t...” he trailed off, but Madara got the message clearly. He’d be on the ground with a few broken bones.

 He had to fight back a smile at that admission. He liked the fact that getting underneath the stoic bastard’s skin was so easy for him. A couple of spoken words, and a sarcastic act was enough to have the Senju physically restraining himself from resorting to violence.

“I’m telling you all of this because everyone in that house other than Hashirama is looking for an excuse. They’re searching for one slip up so that you and the rest of your family dies. They don’t want you alive anymore. They see every last one of you as a liability that’s going to eventually turn into a threat again.”

“I know,” Madara told him. “I’m to be silent and respectful. I can do that.”

Tobirama didn’t looked very reassured, but he just shrugged and turned around after a few more seconds of staring. He didn’t say another word before he began walking again. He’d obviously gotten his temper back under control easily. It looked as though Madara was going to have to try a little harder to get him to slip up again, maybe even more so. It was nice to have a reassurance that he wasn’t living with a robot.

They made it to the manner shortly after. A few guards were spread out in the yard, walking around slowly. They nodded at Tobirama when he walked by, and blatantly glared at Madara as he followed. He guessed Tobirama wasn’t kidding about that last comment. Their looks were more poisonous than scornful. They really did see him as a potential threat. If they were this against their leader’s decision, then why was it still happening? The leader of the clan was supposed to act on the majority’s wishes in order to know that they were acting in the clan’s best interest. This didn’t look like much of a democracy right now. No wonder Hashirama had dreamt about that village for so long.

The living room was empty when they walked inside. Tobirama silently pointed up the stairs, a clear message to Madara. He complied, walking to the staircase while Tobirama walked around a hallway and out of sight almost instantly. “You really have become quite the pathetic bitch, haven’t you?” Madara asked himself humorlessly.

He'd catered to Tobirama’s every wish since he’d been brought to the compound. He knew that he had no other choice, but it still made his stomach squirm. He’d even come along on this little trip, _at his own request_ , to talk to Hashirama. If his clansmen could see him now, he'd be labeled as a good-for-nothing traitor. For some strange reason, however, when he thought of the pathetic sight that Tobirama had made the night before, he couldn’t bring himself to care about any of that at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm pretty sure that you all know what's next! Thank you all so much for the kudos and the comments. They make me smile whenever I get a notification about them.


	8. Doing What's Right

Madara sat down on Tobirama’s bed and just looked around his room. He hadn’t been in much of a position to be nosy the last time that he’d been there. His entire stay had been riddled with problems and crippling injuries. At least this time the only thing that was crippling on him was that infernal collar. He started by just turning his head from side to side, taking in the shades of light blue that seemed to engulf the entire space. It was almost relaxing, Madara supposed, like a large body of water at different angles of light. Tobirama must have been almost fanatical about water, not that he could say anything with his strong pride of his own elemental nature.

Another thing that Madara noticed for the first time was that it was clean, almost obsessively so. It made sense, really. Tobirama would be a clean freak. He was too tightly controlled to allow some other part of his life not to have that same rigorous structure to it. That was why Madara was so surprised to see that Tobirama had resorted to alcohol. The amount of chaotic emotions that had to have been flying through his head had to have been massive. There was no other way that he would have succumbed to the temptation. It would have been a way for him to feel more in control of everything, even if the reality of everything was the exact opposite.

Madara stopped observing and grimaced at how _human_ Tobirama was starting to appear to him. If Tobirama hadn’t just developed all of these new emotions in the past two weeks, then how hard did he have to work to maintain that stoic mask? How young had he been when he’d perfected it?

_Don’t start sympathizing with him now!_ He snapped at himself angrily before he just sighed. _Maybe it’s already too late for that. You’re here, after all, aren’t you?_ His willing presence back in this house was enough to say that he’d at least started to sympathize with the younger Senju sibling, even if it was out of a feeling of obligation. He hated the fact that someone that had nothing to do with his immediate issues was suffering because of something that he was involved in. Sure, he wasn’t a slave willingly at all, but that was beside the point.

_You feel for him in this regard because you can’t stand to see people treated horribly in the first place. It’s twice as bad when it happens because of something that’s totally out of their control._

He sighed as he got back to his feet and slowly started walking around. The room was quite large, perhaps a bit bigger than his own quarters had been at his old home in the original Uchiha compound.

He let his hand brush across a couple of books that were on his shelves, and realized that he was staring at a large row of journals. Underneath them were quite a few rows of thick books on all sorts of subjects, ranging from biology to psychology. He saw a few on jutsu as well, mixed in with a few volumes about the finer points of chakra manipulation.

He moved on and examined a large map of the ninja world. There were small dots all over the place, and Madara thought that they might have been bases for other clans. After the map, there were a few charts of different physical equations and the nerdiness just never quit. He just raised an eyebrow to the sheer amount of all the information in this room alone. He’d known that Tobirama was intelligent along with being an incredibly skilled shinobi. He hadn’t known that the rumors underexaggerated everything.

Feeling his head swim at the overload of information, he turned away from the two walls that housed all of the informational things and turned to the warrior side of the room. He walked toward the bed and hopped up on the mattress, pushing himself to his knees as he observed the shuriken that were hooked to the wall. They were a beautiful silver. Madara had only ever seen the standard issue ones. These were intricately designed, and were visibly sharp.

“I wouldn’t touch those if I were you,” Madara turned and saw Hashirama standing in the doorway. He was looking up at the shuriken, a thoughtful and saddened look on his face. “They were my mother’s weapons. A wedding present from our great grandfather, if I’m not mistaken. Tobirama treasures them, even if he tries to act like he’s not the sentimental type.”

Madara stiffened at the sight of his old friend. Heat started churning in his stomach as his mind flashed back to the pained expression on Tobirama’s face the night before. The expression that the man in front of him had caused.

Not giving anything away, Madara slowly got off the bed and stood before his old friend. Hashirama beamed at him and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry about this situation! I can’t believe that Tobir—”

Madara’s hand had clenched into a tight fist and he found himself drawing back and swinging before Tobirama’s name could fully make it past Hashirama’s lips. He connected on Hashirama’s cheek bone. His old friend yelped and tumbled backward, slamming into the door and falling down to the ground. He looked up at Madara with wide, hurt eyes. “What was that for?” he asked, sounding close to tears.

“Don’t you dare look like that!” Madara scolded him.

Hashirama didn’t quite sober up, but he visibly warded off the tears that he had been about to shed. “What did I do? I’m sorry if that was for not being here when everything happened to try and stop—”

“You couldn’t have stopped it,” Madara cut him off. His voice was a bit calmer this time, and the oldest Senju visibly relaxed.

Hashirama slowly pushed himself to his feet, looking at Madara wearily. “I’m not going to hit you again, unless you say something stupid,” Madara promised him.

“What did I do to warrant the first one?” Hashirama questioned.

Madara’s eye twitched. That had definitely qualified as a stupid question. He just closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, trying to calm his raging temper. Beating the crap out of Hashirama wouldn’t make anything better at all, though it would probably be a good stress-relieving exercise.

“You were about to blame Tobirama,” Madara informed him.

“But Tobirama—”

“Shut up!” Madara hissed. “Don’t say it, or I _will_ hit you again!”

“What are you talking about?” Hashirama asked him wearily. “You’re a prisoner here! Tobirama is practically your warden! How you are defending him?”

“He’s saved my life twice so far,” Madara told him coldly. “He’s saved me and taken care of me, even when I was being a stupid, ungrateful prick about things, and he’s the only person that’s keeping Izuna away from the majority of your psychotic family. I was supposed to be executed when I first got here if Tobirama didn’t want me, and Izuna would be brought here in my stead. Your brother _hates_ me, and instead of just getting rid of me, which I probably would have done to him, he let me live.” Hashirama’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened to respond, but Madara reached over and slapped a hand over his mouth. “You shut up and listen to me right now, you idiotic Senju.” After that, Madara continued telling Hashirama about everything that Tobirama had done for him, how he’d treated his wounds and nearly harmed himself from chakra exhaustion, how he’d given Madara his own room at his house and kept him steadily supplied with food and other necessities. How he hadn’t just gotten rid of him when knew that Hashirama would started kicking up a fuss about everything when he found out.

Hashirama’s eyes gradually went from concernedly curious to horrified. “He…he…and I….”

“I’m not finished,” Madara informed him. “How dare you upset your brother like you did?! That is your own flesh and blood! He’ll be there for you when no one else ever will, and you disrespected and violated that sacred bond that you both share. I would annihilate you over Izuna if I had to, because that’s what brothers do. You completely abandoned Tobirama and nearly broke him. Do you know what your words and actions did to him? Do you know how much you hurt him?”

“I…I….” Hashirama looked positively close to tears again, and Madara felt a bit better about the entire situation, but he wasn’t finished with him just yet.

“Has your brother ever been a heavy drinker?” Madara questioned.

“N-no,” Hashirama managed, his voice came out a bit husky from the tears that were slowly starting to leak from his eyes. “I’ve never seen him drink before.”

“Good job, then,” Madara told him coldly. “Your brother has managed to consume an alarming amount of liquor since you’ve been back home. I’m surprised that he’s not dead from alcohol poisoning. Last night was the first night that I’d known about it. He has a surprisingly loose tongue when he’s drunk. He even told me why he was drinking. He’s drinking because of _you_. He thinks that you hate him, and he can’t take the thought of it. It’s driving him crazy.”

“Oh no,” Hashirama said. “I’ve screwed up so badly. I…I need to talk to him!” He grabbed Madara by the shoulders and shook him slightly. “Do you think that he’ll ever forgive me? I don’t want to make things worse, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do! I…I…Madara, please help me!”

“No,” Madara said, pushing Hashirama off him. “I’m not helping you at all. You’re going to fix this on your own.”

“But I—” Hashirama wailed, only to but cut off.

“No, you did this, and you need to fix it,” Madara said. “Go down there and speak to him.” Hashirama looked positively scared, and Madara sighed, finally taking pity on him. “Look, your brother loves you more than I think you’ll ever realize. He’s not going to stay angry with you. Just go and speak to him. It won’t mean as much if I intervene and try to help you.”

Hashirama blinked at Madara, and cocked his head to the side, as though he’d just realized something. Madara’s eyes twitched at that: it was the same thing that Tobirama did when he thought of something to question him about.

“Why did you help?” Hashirama asked.

“I’ll forever be in Tobirama’s debt,” Madara finally said. “I can’t stand the thought of it, but it’s true. I felt obligated to at least say something. Besides, I promised him last night that I’d help put things right. He doesn’t remember me promising it, because he was too drunk, but I always keep my word.”

Hashirama smiled a watery smile at him. “You’re such a good friend!”

“Tobirama is _not_ my friend,” Madara corrected him quickly. “I still dislike him, and the feeling is mutual. This is about doing the right thing, not whether or not I like him as a person.” He was silent for a few moments, biting at his lower lip as he contemplated how to word his next request. “When you go and talk to him,” Madara finally said, “don’t tell him that you heard this from me.”

“Why not?” Hashirama asked. “He should know that you’ve done this for him.”

“Just don’t tell him,” Madara snapped. “Consider it a repayment for me pulling your head out of your ass about this.”

“What am I supposed to tell him about my sudden change of heart?” Hashirama asked. “I doubt that he’d believe that I just spontaneously changed my mind.”

“Say that you were thinking about everything and realized that there was no way that he would do something like this,” Madara shrugged. “I don’t know, Hashirama,” Madara snapped at him, “this is your problem now.” He turned the Senju around, opened the door and shoved him out, slamming it behind him before Hashirama could ask any questions.

There, he’d done his good deed for this messed up family. He knew that this wouldn’t make him and Tobirama even, but he figured that it was a start.

 

 

Hashirama just stared stupidly at Tobirama’s door as it slammed in his face. He knew that he needed to talk to his younger brother, but what was there to say? He’d hurt and betrayed him horribly, and the very thought of it caused his chest to ache. How could he do that to the person that he was supposed to be the closest to? He’d already lost two of his younger brothers. He didn’t think he could stand to lose his last one as well. He needed Tobirama, and he’d just brushed him off so callously and treated him like dirt.

Yes, it was time for him to apologize.

He slowly turned away from the door and began making his way down the hall, to the stairs as he considered Madara’s words. The man had spoken so heatedly about Hashirama’s younger brother. He’d sounded respectful of Tobirama. It was a tone that Hashirama had never heard Madara use to describe someone that he hated. Even in his distraught mindset, he couldn’t find himself to believe for one second that Madara disliked Tobirama anymore, even if the man insisted otherwise. He could understand the urge to do what was right, but whoever heard of doing what was right by your enemy? He supposed that it didn’t matter, though. Madara and Tobirama’s relationship was none of his business, and he knew that he definitely didn’t have the right at the moment to be sticking his nose into it. If Madara wished for Hashirama to keep his name out of his sudden turnaround, then he would, no questions asked.

The meeting had abated a few minutes before, and Tobirama had informed Hashirama in a cool, distant voice that Madara had wanted to speak to him. His brother had immediately gone into another room and engaged Toka in a conversation while Hashirama had rushed upstairs to see what his old friend had wanted. Remembering that Tobirama had gone into the dining room to speak with Toka, Hashirama immediately walked into the kitchen once he’d reached the bottom of the stairs. The dining room sat on the other side of the kitchen, and he could see both of his family members immediately.

Nervousness wracked him as he slowly proceeded through the kitchen and entered the dining room. Tobirama and Toka were both standing by the wooden dinner table, speaking to each other in low tones. Toka had a small smile on her face as she shook her head. “You almost sound concerned, cousin,” Toka informed Tobirama.

He saw his brother’s face contort into a grimace. “Not concerned,” Tobirama assured her. “I’m curious, is all.”

“Of course,” Toka nodded sagely, though she didn’t sound as though she believed him. “I’m sure that’s the case.”

Hashirama contemplated asking about the conversation that he’d just walked in on, but thought better of it. He could always inquire about it later, after he assured for himself that he and his brother’s relationship wasn’t about to permanently suffer for the idiocy that he’d pulled off the previous week. He smiled as he walked up and placed his hand on Toka’s shoulder. He turned and looked at Tobirama. His face, which hadn’t been much more than neutral before went completely cold and stoic.

“Toka, I’m deeply sorry for interrupting your conversation, but do you mind letting me speak to Tobirama in privet for a few minutes?” Hashirama asked. “It’s terribly important, I promise”

“No problem,” Toka assured him. She smiled at Hashirama before she turned around and walked out of the dining room, leaving only the two of them in there.

“Is there something specific that you wanted to speak with me about?” Tobirama asked. His voice wasn’t angry or disrespectful. It was just weary and guarded. It sounded as though he was preparing to rush away before a fight could break out. That hurt a lot, especially now that he knew why Tobirama was acting the way that he was.

“I am the worst brother in the world,” Hashirama found himself blurting out. “I am so sorry, Tobirama! I…I don’t know what I can do to make up for the way that I’ve been acting for the past half a month toward you. There’s no excuse for it at all. I’m a horrible person, and I don’t deserve you at all.”

Tobirama backed away, obviously startled by his outburst. “What the—”

Hashirama reached out and grabbed Tobirama’s shoulder and squeezed it gently. “Please, brother, let me finish. I feel terrible, and I want you to know how I feel. I realized that this was so out of character for you, and that you’d never do anything to harm someone that wasn’t a threat to you or our family.”

“Did…did you speak to someone about this?” Tobirama questioned. He looked uncertain, as though he was waiting for someone to come out and confirm that it was a prank.

“No,” Hashirama lied. “I just thought about it and realized that I was wrong. I know that you probably don’t forgive me, but—”

“Forget about it,” Tobirama told him quickly. “Let’s just move on past all of this.”

Hashirama positively beamed as he jumped forward and pulled his brother against him in a tight embrace. He heard Tobirama gasp harshly before he was still for a moment. He wasn’t quite leaning into him, but it was the closest that he’d gotten a hug from him in years. Too bad the compliance only lasted about five seconds. A harsh sting ached in the back of his head where Tobirama slammed his palm against it.

“Quit hugging people so freely,” his brother scolded him. “How many times do I have to tell you that it’s unbecoming behavior for the heir to our clan!”

Hashirama winced as he released Tobirama. Saddened from the abuse, he jutted out his lower lip and looked at Tobirama pathetically. The look had never worked before, but he was always opened to attempting it until it did. No such luck this time, however. Tobirama simply scowled at him and told him to act his age. Hashirama couldn’t help but smile despite this as he stared at his brother’s frowning face. This was much better. This was how they were supposed to be as brothers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! What do you think about this chapter? Was Madara too harsh? Was he not harsh enough?


	9. Different isn't Always Better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you Miray for the idea of using Tobirama's summons! Credit goes to them completely!

Things were… _different_. It was the only way that Madara could describe the next week in the house. Tobirama was still gone for a good portion out of the day, but he got back an hour or so after dark. He hadn’t come home reeking of alcohol in the past seven days, and he looked a lot healthier than Madara had seen him since he’d been there at all. Madara couldn’t say that he felt particularly pleased by all of this, but it didn’t make him unhappy either. He supposed to proper word to use would be _comforted_. He hadn’t realized how many negative emotions had just been floating around the house, nearly suffocating him, until they had all disappeared. He’d felt lighter that week than he had in a long time, which made no sense given his situation.

He and Tobirama still didn’t speak to each other often, but when they did converse it felt different as well. The horrible tension that was in the air formerly had all but dissipated. Madara wouldn’t ever call it camaraderie, but their words were no longer heated and full of angry insults. Sometimes they would share brief stories of their childhood, or give their thoughts on certain jutsu. Once, they’d even had a conversation about the outcome of another clan war that was going on near the outskirts of the fire country. Their conversations weren’t awkward in the least, until Madara realized who it was that he was speaking to. After that, their sentences would slowly get shorter and shorter until everything was silent again. Madara would get up and go into his room soon afterward with a guilty feeling in his chest.

That was where he found himself now, sitting on his bed with his face in his hands as he tried to clear his brain. It was maybe ten o’clock at night. He and Tobirama had just finished eating in the living room. It had started out quiet, but Tobirama had brought up one of his students, and a conversation about children from their clans had started before the subject had gotten a bit more sensitive as they began speaking about their dead siblings. When his gut had clenched in sympathy as Tobirama mentioned his younger brother Kawarama, Madara knew that they had gone too far. He stood up a few moments later and quietly excused himself to his room, stating that he was tired and needed to retire for the night.

What the hell was wrong with him? He was an Uchiha! His brothers along with cousins and friends had been slaughtered by the members of the very clan that had him and his own brethren imprisoned. Why was he so moved by Tobirama’s story that he felt sympathy for a _Senju_? It didn’t matter why. It needed to stop. He would not make friends; nothing about the Senju and the Uchiha were compatible anyway. The wish for a peaceful end to the war was a thing of the past, and the present misery was what their reality was and always would be. He indulged Hashirama as his friend, only because he was certain that the man wouldn’t let it be any other way. Tobirama was different. He’d done his best to repay his debt to this Senju, and that was all there ever would be to it.

He slowly stood up and undressed and grabbed a pair of pajamas from his closet. Tobirama had offered to buy him new clothes, but Madara had declined the offer. Old hand-me-downs would be fine. Madara wanted no more than what was strictly necessary to live from the Senju. It was the best way to stay as completely detached as he could from that family. It was the only way that Madara was going to be able to sleep at night.

It was as though Tobirama was trying his hardest to make Madara comfortable, which only served to make him more uncomfortable. He’d refused to contemplate what Tobirama had drunkenly said to him the night before he’d spoken to Hashirama. He was sticking to the theory that Tobirama had been too drunk to be held responsible for anything that he said or did, and that the theory that a drunk person’s words were a sober person’s thoughts was totally wrong.

Madara sighed as he pulled the old pajamas on and climbed into bed. He rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. He would have to figure out some way to stop all of this before Tobirama got any ideas.

 

 

Tobirama woke up earlier than usual the next morning. He sat up in his bed and yawned as he stretched out his tired muscles. _Coffee…_ his brain sleepily commanded. He stood up and shuffled out of the room, making a quick pitstop to the bathroom to take care of a few morning necessities before he walked to the coffee maker. As he pulled down the coffee and filters and began making the vital liquid, he pondered over Madara. He’d been acting strange lately, and Tobirama didn’t know what was going on.

Tobirama wasn’t stupid in the least. He knew that Madara had spoken to Hashirama about Tobirama. It hadn’t been a happy discussion either, if the way that Hashirama’s cheek had been slowly turning a black and blue color. He felt an unnatural warmth in his chest at the thought of it. It was happiness that he couldn’t explain. He knew that Madara was an Uchiha, but despite that, he couldn’t bring himself to feel any negative emotions toward him any longer. It was as though Madara’s selfless act of kindness had fully opened up his eyes to things that he’d been reluctant to look at previously. He was a nice guy and had a large heart, even if he tried to act otherwise. Tobirama realized what Hashirama saw in him: a great person and an even better friend to have at your side.

He heard footsteps slowly padding down the hallway and a door shut a moment later. Tobirama looked down at the coffee pot and saw that the coffee was almost ready. He decided to offer it to Madara as a bribe. The man had been really hard to talk to about sensitive matters, and there was a large one that Tobirama wished to touch upon with him. He wanted Madara to be happy, even if his situation was grim, and there was only one way that Tobirama could see that happening. He grabbed two cups down from the cupboard and set them on the counter just as he heard a door shutting again. More shuffling footsteps could be heard from down the hallway as Tobirama turned to the coffee pot and began making his own cup. He sat down at the table just as Madara came into sight.

The Uchiha was very clearly not a morning person. His hair was in disarray, sticking out more than normal, and a rat’s nest was visible at the back of his scalp. His eyes were droopy, and his pajamas were rumpled horribly. He didn’t even acknowledge Tobirama’s existence as he shuffled toward the coffee pot. He grabbed the extra cup and poured himself a glass. Without doing anything else to it, he braced himself against the counter and took a small sip. Tobirama heard something that sounded suspiciously like a moan come from him, but made no comment about it.

“I would have made breakfast,” Tobirama started instead, “but I’m not a very good cook.”

“Do you want something to eat?” Madara questioned. He didn’t turn around to look at Tobirama as he continued to sip on his coffee. In Madara’s current state, Tobirama wasn’t entirely sure that he’d trust him with sharp or hot objects.

“No,” he replied. “I’m not hungry right now. You can make something for yourself if you want.”

Madara grunted lowly as a form of acknowledgement as he took another drink of his coffee. He made no move toward the stove, so Tobirama figured that he wasn’t about to start whipping anything up at the moment.

“I have something that I’d like to talk to you about,” Tobirama informed him.

Madara tensed slightly. “Can it wait until my head is clear enough to think properly?” Madara questioned.

“Not really,” Tobirama said. “I’d like to bring it up to you now before I have to leave for work. I figured that I’d give you some time to think it over before you gave me an answer.”

The tension in Madara’s shoulders didn’t abate at his reply. His posture might have gotten even more rigid. Tobirama figured that his vague answer probably hadn’t eased any of Madara’s worries. “It’s nothing bad,” Tobirama assured him a moment later.

Madara just sighed and slowly turned around, leaning his back against the counter with the cup of steaming coffee in his hand. “What is it?” Madara finally questioned.

“How would you like to speak to your brother?” Tobirama asked him.

He heard the Uchiha inhale sharply, his eyes widening. The sleepiness that had been on Madara’s face quickly abated, leaving excitement in its place. That excitement immediately turned to distrust and weariness. “What are you trying to pull, Senju?” Madara finally asked. “Don’t try and trick me with lies. I’m already fully aware that I’ll be unable to see and speak with Izuna for the rest of my natural life. I don’t know what calculating angle that you’re working at, but—”

“It’s no angle,” Tobirama cut him off patiently. He’d know that Madara would clam up at the thought of it. He distrusted every Senju except for Hashirama, and this was just too good of an offer to be true.

“What do you want me to do?” Madara snapped at him. “Do you want me to give vocational speeches about how I’ve been thoroughly cowed into submission by the big, bad Senju, and because of that I get rewarded, so they should all follow my example and bow down to you guys?”

“Didn’t I just say that there is no angle?” Tobirama asked him.

“You expect me to believe you so easily?” Madara questioned. “You’re more intelligent than damn near anyone else that I’ve ever met. You’re much smarter than me. The only thing that I can do to not be manipulated by the likes of you is to question you. I’m not interested in whatever it is that you want me to do. Bribing me with contact to my only brother is pretty low of you to punch with. You’re a larger asshole than I thought.”

Tobirama sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “There’s no angle,” he repeated again. Madara had a way of sapping his patience until he had none left. “I don’t expect anything in return for it. I asked a simple yes or no question. Would you like to talk to your brother?”

“Of course, I would,” Madara snapped. “What kind of stupid question is that?”

“Could you just quit being an ass for a couple of seconds?” Tobirama asked him. “I’m trying to tell you something, and you’re starting to push my kindness a bit too far.”

“I don’t want your kindness,” Madara informed him. “How many time do I have to tell you that?”

Even as he claimed that, he took another sip out of the cup of coffee, immediately contradicting himself. Tobirama just rolled his eyes at him and said. “Fine, if you don’t want me to be nice about it, then I won’t. Just shut up and listen to me.”

Madara glared at him, but remained silent.

“I can’t let you see your brother,” Tobirama admitted. “It’s not within my power to do anything like that, but I can let you message him. I have summons that can carry the letters for you. I wanted to get your thoughts on it before I talked to my snow leopard. There’s no guarantee that she’ll do it, but I’m sure that I could convince her if you were interested.”

Madara was silent for a few moments. He just looked down at his coffee mug quietly, not giving anything away. His expression slowly went from totally neutral to angry. Much to Tobirama’s surprise and dismay, his black irises disappeared and were replaced by the blood-red color of the Sharingan.

“Stop being kind,” Madara said quietly. His voice was shaking in frustration as his grip visibly tightened around his coffee cup, as though he was trying to stop himself from throwing it. “Just stop being so fucking kind to me! I can’t take it anymore! You’re my damn enemy, Senju!” He looked directly at Tobirama, who automatically looked away from the swirling red eyes. Too many years of training had been branded into his reflexes to ever voluntarily look into a red Uchiha eye. “You’re supposed to be mean and cruel to me! You’re supposed to insult me and make my life hell! You’re not supposed to tell me about your students and about your childhood and inquire about my own. You’re not supposed to offer me a way to talk to my brother that your family imprisoned! What are you not understanding about that?!”

Tobirama sighed. Surprisingly enough, he felt no frustration. He was very confused, but he was past frustrated with Madara. It was like a new level of calm had overtaken him and he was starting to think a bit more clearly than normal. He felt this way when he was in battle, analyzing his enemies fighting style before he went in for an attack.

“Why are you so hellbent on me being cruel to you?” Tobirama asked. “Most people would prefer a nicer treatment as opposed to being treated like a dog. I’ve never had anyone ever request that I be cruel to them.”

“You’re a Senju,” Madara told him. “You’re supposed to be cruel and ruthless! You’re supposed to make my life miserable! You’re supposed to go out of your way to make me acknowledge that you’re better than me. You’re supposed to try and make life hard for me, and to try and make me regret ever facing down your brother on the battlefield. I tried to _kill_ Hashirama. Did you forget that or something? I killed your clansmen! We’re enemies, damnit!”

“It’s not like Hashirama’s helpless,” Tobirama replied. “He fought back, and you both tried to take each other’s lives, just like me and Izuna. I killed your clansmen as well. We were at war, but we’re not right now. I don’t see a point in extending the hatred that we felt there to right now. There’s no reason for me to treat you cruelly when you were just doing what you felt was necessary to protect your family’s best interest.”

“You’re insane,” Madara snapped. “We hate each other, remember? I’m not…you’re not….” He trailed off, a pleading expression on his face, as if he were asking Tobirama to take pity on him.

Tobirama sighed and he slowly stood up. He walked around the table and leaned against it, looking at Madara. “You lied to me last week,” Tobirama informed Madara.

Madara visibly paled as panic sparked in his eyes. “I don’t—”

“You did lie,” Tobirama said. “I’m not angry about it. It’s my fault that I was able to be lied to, after all. The night that I was drunk, and you found me, you knew what I was saying. I don’t know what I told you, because I honestly can’t remember, but it must have pertained to Hashirama.”

Madara was opening his mouth, but no noise was coming out. He attempted a few more times, but he was still unable to articulate what he was trying to say. His face reddened considerably, and Tobirama felt amused by the way that the shade really complimented his skin tone.

“It’s alright,” Tobirama assured him. “I’m not—”

He was cut off by the sound of glass crashing against the floor. Madara had gripped the mug much too tightly and the glass had crumpled between his hands. Coffee went everywhere, and glass went even farther, crashing against the counter and the table before it hit the floor. Tobirama cursed as he hurriedly backed away from the hot liquid before it could do more than irritate his skin.

Madara was still standing in the middle of the mess. His shirt and pants were drenched in the liquid and there were cuts on his feet from where the glass had sliced him on the way down. He saw blood dripping from his hands and onto the floor, mixing in with the coffee. Madara made no move to get out of the mess and Tobirama sighed.

He strode over to Madara and did his best to maneuver around the glass. The heat on his feet from the cooling liquid wasn’t so bad. It was uncomfortable at most. He’d been trained to withstand heat from birth, after all. He grabbed Madara by the upper arm and shook him roughly. Madara looked at him with wide eyes.

“I don’t know what’s going through your head right now, but snap out of it,” Tobirama told him sharply. “Stop being such an idiot and get out of those clothes before you end up scarring yourself.”

Madara swallowed, looking at him uncertainly and Tobirama shook him roughly again. That seemed to snap him out of whatever had been on his mind. He quickly jumped out of the hot mess of liquid and glass and dashed out of sight. He heard a door slamming a moment later and just sighed. He had an idea of what was wrong with Madara, but didn’t know how to broach the subject.

He slowly walked to the back and knocked on the door. Madara opened the door a moment later. He was only clad in a pair of boxers, looking as though he just wanted to go back to bed and hide there for a few years. “Let me look at your burns,” Tobirama told him.

“I’ll be fine,” Madara said coldly.

“That coffee was hot,” Tobirama said. “It was hot, and that glass was too.”

“I don’t want your help,” Madara told him. “I don’t want it and I don’t need it. Quit trying to—”

“You’re my servant!” Tobirama finally felt the last dregs of his patience evaporating. “You’re my servant and you will do what I tell you to do! Let me look at your wounds! That’s an order, Uchiha. I won’t ask nicely again.”

“What are you going to do if I refuse?” Madara asked him coolly. There was a mocking, superior look in his eyes.

“I’ll force you,” Tobirama promised. Madara chuckled at this and Tobirama didn’t know what was so funny about what he had said.

Madara opened the door farther. His smile sharpened as he took a deliberate step toward Tobirama. Madara was a couple of inches shorter than him, but the aura of pure power that surrounded him made up significantly for the height gap.

“I think you’ve forgotten something very important, Senju,” Madara practically purred to him. They were chest to chest and Madara’s hand rested on his shoulder. It might have been taken as a friendly gesture, if his thumb and forefinger weren’t lightly curved around his neck.

“What could I have forgotten, Uchiha?” Tobirama questioned.

“You couldn’t force me to do something even if you wanted to. If we were to ever fight, I’d destroy you.”

As if to prove that point, the light curve suddenly turned into a strangling grip. Tobirama found himself moving. He was flying through the air with the hand still gripped tightly around his neck. The next thing he knew, he was pressed against the wall, Madara’s hand digging uncomfortably into his windpipe.

“You’ve been treating me like I’m some sort of harmless pet,” Madara informed him softly. He reached down and grabbed a kunai from Tobirama’s pocket. How Madara had known that it was there was beyond Tobirama. He held the blade up to Tobirama’s face and pressed it against his cheek. The best that Tobirama was able to do was grab onto Madara’s wrist and try his best to pull it away from his throat. He wasn’t getting much oxygen in, and it was starting to make him dizzy.

“You seem to forget that I’m the biggest damn threat that you’ll ever have,” Madara said, applying a bit more pressure to his cheek. If he moved even fractionally, it would split skin. “Quit acting as though I’m your friend or ally,” Madara said softly. “I don’t care about you or like you at all, you piece of Senju trash. It’s insulting for you to act otherwise.”

Tobirama was in the most vulnerable position that he ever remembered. One wrong move could lead to serious consequences. He should probably be afraid, frightened, or even weary. He wasn’t, though. He wasn’t scared at all. “If you’re so set on that,” Tobirama managed, “then maybe you can explain to me why you talked to my brother.”

Madara’s eyes began swirling as he looked at Tobirama. He was agitated, that much was written all over his face. “Why don’t you know when to shut the hell up?” Madara asked him coldly. “You’re in no position to question me over _anything_.”

“You’re really going to kill me over thinking that you’re a better person than you let on?” Tobirama asked.

“I’m _not!”_ Madara snarled. “I’m not a better person, damnit! You should hate me, loath me like the rest of your damned clan does!”

“I never hated you personally,” Tobirama told him, and it was the truth. “I hated the principal of you and the rest of your clan. I was raised to hate the Uchiha in general.”

“Well, I hate you,” Madara assured him. He moved closer so that they were chest to chest and eye to eye again. Madara was breathing heavily, and Tobirama felt the air blow across his face. It was a dizzying effect, and caused his oxygen deprived brain to fuzz even more. “I hate you the most out of your entire clan! I want nothing more than to slit your pathetic throat right now.”

“Then why don’t you?” Tobirama challenged. “You’ve already overstepped all of your boundaries and this is a death sentence anyway. Why don’t you just kill me while you’re at it?” It was a calculated risk, but Tobirama was fairly certain that Madara wouldn’t go through with it. He’d snapped, but he was still coherent and in his right mind. Madara didn’t really hate him; his previous actions were not of hate, but of compassion. Tobirama was all too familiar with hateful acts, having been surrounded by them his entire life. His older brother was the only other person that Tobirama had ever seen show compassion, so it wasn’t as familiar of an action, but he still recognized it when it showed its head.

His gamble paid off. Madara’s hand loosened from around his neck and the kunai was removed from his cheek. They stood still for a few heartbeats, just staring at each other. Madara was breathing hard out of rage, and Tobirama was trying his best to suck in as much oxygen as possible to make up for the amount that he’d lost.

As soon as Tobirama’s breath came back, he swung his arm around and caught Madara in the jaw. The Uchiha flew backward and crashed on the other side of the hallway. When he fell to the floor, Tobirama saw a bit of a crack in the wall. He sighed, knowing that it would have to be fixed now. It couldn’t be helped, he supposed. Sometimes desperate measures had to be taken to get idiots to realize things.

Madara looked up at Tobirama. His eyes were narrowed in rage. “Don’t just think that I’m a pushover, and I’m going to let you walk all over me,” Tobirama advised him. “Do me a favor and sit there for a moment with your mouth shut. I don’t have the patience for you to have another moronic mental breakdown. I have to leave soon, and this is taking up more time than it should.”

Madara didn’t say another word. He just sat there, looking up at Tobirama hatefully. That was good enough for him, as long as he had enough time to articulate what he was trying to get across, then everything would be fine.

“I’m not offering you this as a token of friendship, or even an olive branch of peace. I’m doing it as a way to pay off the debt I owe you,” Tobirama said quietly. “I don’t hate you, and I’m not going to change my mind, but that’s not why I’m doing this. I don’t care why you talked to Hashirama. Your motives are unimportant to me. Nothing can possibly pay back being reunited with a brother other than reuniting you with your own. Before you start throwing another temper tantrum, just realize that this is a one-time offer. I won’t offer it again, because I am not being thrown into another wall and being threatened with a kunai because you decide to go through another psychotic episode. Give me your answer when I return tonight.”

Madara didn’t say anything as Tobirama walked past him, to his room to get ready.

“I’m not going to help you with your wounds, since you’re so adamant about it. Those need to be looked over, however. There’s some burn cream in the bathroom. The plaster from the hallway needs to be cleaned and your mess in the kitchen does as well. I _was_ going to pick that up, but now I don’t have any time.”

Tobirama shut the door behind him before he slumped down. His heart was still racing, beating harshly against his ribcage. The adrenaline was just starting to pump through his body. Madara could be terrifying when he wanted to be. The demented looks that he was able to give alone would scare nearly any enemy. Tobirama might have known that Madara wouldn’t harm him, but that didn’t mean that the Sharingan, which he hadn’t been able to look away from wouldn’t have messed with his mind any. Their ocular jutsu unnerved him more than just about anything else. He couldn’t stand it.

_You’re alright,_ he told himself calmly. _He didn’t use it on you. Just calm down before you go back out, and get to your students. They’ll be worried if you’re late._

He quickly got himself ready for work, and when he walked out of the room, he saw that the plaster had been cleaned up and so had the kitchen. Madara was nowhere in sight, but Tobirama had a feeling that the man’s wounds would be alright the next time that he saw him. Hopefully that one hit had been enough to knock some sense into him, because Tobirama really didn’t want to have to do it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you liked the chapter! I feel as though this chapter was a bit necessary, because I think that everyone everywhere always needs a reminder of just how badass Madara can be...and furthering along the plot too.


	10. Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fair warning, this one is long winded, but I feel as though it's necessary given the overly cautious nature I've depicted Madara with in this fic.

Madara was so frustrated as he sat in his room, rubbing burn cream on his stomach and legs. The burns hurt horribly, and he cursed as he had to rub his calloused hands over them.

His mood, which hadn’t been great when he woke up, had turned positively foul in what felt like no time at all. He knew that he could get underneath Tobirama’s skin with only a little effort, but Tobirama seemed to get underneath his with no effort at all. Madara could tell that the man didn’t try, because all he was doing was attempting to be kind.

That was the entire problem, though. Madara didn’t want Tobirama being nice to him. He’d pleaded and practically begged the man to reconsider all of this and turn callous to him. Instead, he offers him the chance to correspond with his brother. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to speak with Izuna, it was that he couldn’t. There was no way that he was going to be able to allow himself to take that handout from the Senju.

“What the hell is your problem?” he asked himself miserably. Tobirama had actually caused him to lose it for a few moments. He’d been intent on ripping the man’s throat out because he was literally killing him with kindness.

Why? Why didn’t Tobirama see him as the enemy that he was? They were enemies! They both hated each other, even if Tobirama refused to acknowledge it.

_Do you really hate him?_ The voice in the back of his head was a total asshole, Madara had decided. Why did it never take his side on things? _Can you name one thing about him, personally, that you hate?_ If Madara had to choose one thing, it would probably be his stubbornness, but he knew that wasn’t really a viable answer. He was only stubborn when it came to Madara’s health, which made him uncomfortable. It made him feel as though Tobirama truly cared about him, which had to be a complete lie.

Madara remembered being very young and having this exact conversation with his father. He’d sat Madara down on the sofa of their living room and placed a hand on his shoulder. “ _Son,”_ Tajima had said, _“life is harsh, and everyone will be out for their own benefit. No one will ever truly care about you, so you might as well harden your heart and forget about caring about anyone else. The clan is what is important. There is safety in numbers, and this is how you will survive. You will become my soldier tomorrow and start learning the ways of the shinobi. Remember that you have to look out for yourself and only yourself. Live, fight, and die for your clan, because that it the only way that you will ever be cherished._ ”

Those were probably the harshest words that he’d ever heard, but they had stayed with him as a constant friend for nearly twenty years, and they had never steered him wrong. He’d only ever questioned them once, when he’d befriended Hashirama. His father’s words had rung true at the very end of that escapade when Hashirama chose his own clan over him. His heart had hardened totally after that.

Then why did he feel a warmth in his chest when Tobirama asked him about his health, or fussed over whether he was eating enough. Why did he feel happy when Tobirama spoke to him, or offered him something kind instead of something hateful? Why did he have to fight so viciously against these emotions when he shouldn’t have any feeling about the Senju at all?

 

 

“With all due respect, father,” Tobirama said as he stood in Butsuma’s office. “If you keep calling me here, my students are never going to be familiar with the ways of the shinobi.”

“They’ll be fine,” Butsuma said. “This is more important.”

Tobirama felt irritation flare at that remark. There were very few things, if anything at all, that were more important than children. His father had never been a very caring man, after all, and didn’t see the use in young minds like Tobirama did. Butsuma grabbed the only sheet of paper that was not in files or folders neatly stacked on his large desk and held it out to Tobirama.

“This merchant is trying to relocate all of his supplies to the capital of the fire country,” Butsuma said. “He’s offering quite a large sum of money for us to see him safely escorted to the city.”

Tobirama looked at the paper and saw a picture of a large, and rather greasy looking man wearing a suit a couple of sizes too small. His name was Takashi Watanabe, he was 45 years old…there were a lot of useless facts about him that Tobirama didn’t really care to know. He just looked back up at his father after a moment of lightly skimming over the details of the request. He’d look more closely at it later.

“I’d send your brother normally,” Butsuma admitted after a few moments. “He’s stronger than you, and would offer much more safety because of it, but sadly the man is an unagreeable sort of person.” For his father to be saying it, the guy must be a real asshole. “You’ll have to do in his stead. You’re not as spirited as Hashirama, and you rarely, if ever, put your foot in your mouth.”

Tobirama bowed. “I will try my best, father. When should I leave?”

“Immediately,” Butsuma replied. “Gather some supplies from your room down the hallway and leave. I’ll see you in two weeks.”

“Yes father,” Tobirama bowed yet again before he backed out of the room.

He looked around the hallway, wondering what he should do. He couldn’t very well leave Madara at the house unattended to for two weeks. Tobirama didn’t think that he would try anything stupid, but there weren’t enough groceries to get him through that amount of time, and it wasn’t like he could go to the market and buy the supplies himself.

“It’s like I’m taking care of a child,” Tobirama grunted to himself in frustration. A twenty-five-year-old bullheaded, muscle-bound, powerful child, but a child all the same.

He walked a few doors down and knocked lightly on the door. A few moments later, Hashirama opened up. He looked at Tobirama with tired eyes. Someone must have had a late night. “Is something wrong?” Hashirama asked in the middle of a yawn.

“Not particularly,” Tobirama replied. “I just need you to do me a favor.”

That woke Hashirama up if nothing else did. He looked at Tobirama curiously and waited for him to continue. It wasn’t every day that Tobirama admitted to needing help with anything at all.

“I’m about to leave out in a few minutes,” Tobirama said. “I’ll be gone for about two weeks. Can you house sit for me? There aren’t enough supplies for Madara to live off of for that long at my house and I’d rather he not starve.”

“Of course, brother,” Hashirama said. He walked out of his room and Tobirama found himself in another strangling hug.

“Be careful, though,” Tobirama said, “Uchiha’s in one hell of a mood right now.”

“It’s not anything that I can’t handle,” Hashirama told him. “I’ve put up with nearly all of his moods before. _You’re_ the one that needs to worry about being safe,” Hashirama informed him sternly, or as sternly as Hashirama could manage.

Tobirama nodded curtly before Hashirama released him. He took one last look at his brother beaming at him before he went to his own room and packed a small bag for the road.

 

 

It’d taken maybe over forty-five minutes for his heart to pull itself from his throat. After his mind had come back to him, he’d realized just what kind of a situation he’d put himself in. He was lucky that Tobirama was insane. Any other person would have simply given up on Madara after they’d been threatened to the degree that Madara had threatened Tobirama and just given control over to others. Guilt and uncertainty had started to become his main tormentors. Even if it was for some underhanded reason that Tobirama had decided to help him, he still owed the Senju a huge debt that he couldn’t even begin to contemplate repaying at the moment. How had he lost control so easily? Why would he do something to someone who could so easily end his life and the life of his clansmen?

He groaned as he sprawled on the couch, unsure of what to do. He knew that he’d have to make it up to Tobirama some way, but he wasn’t sure what he should do at all. How did one go about apologizing for freaking out so badly? How did one come back from trying to kill the person that was protecting them from the rest of their clan?

 Madara frowned as he heard a knock on the door, disturbing him from his brooding session. There was no way that it was the Senju guards looking to arrest him. They wouldn’t have knocked, and they would have come hours ago, so who the hell could it be? He looked down at his bare chest. He’d been walking around in loose pants, but he’d been reluctant to put on any shirt. The chafing of the fabric across his chest and stomach would be too painful. Part of him wanted to just ignore the bell, but he knew that he couldn’t. Everyone knew that he was staying with Tobirama, and if he didn’t answer it, there’d be repercussions of some kind.

Madara rolled his eyes at his own thoughts. It wasn’t as though he was dressed indecently. He slowly stood up from the sofa and walked to the front door. When he peered through the hole, he saw Hashirama. He frowned as he slowly opened the door.

Hashirama immediately bolted forward, as though he was about to envelop him in a large hug. Wincing at the thought from the pain of that alone, Madara jumped back. Hashirama faltered as he looked Madara over. “What happened to you?”

“An accident with coffee,” Madara said, not going into detail at all. Hashirama was an understanding person, but Madara doubted that the eldest Senju would take too kindly to being told that Madara had snapped and threatened his baby brother with a kunai. “What are you doing here, Senju?” Madara questioned. “Don’t you have a job?”

“I do,” Hashirama agreed, stepping inside anyway. “Sadly, there aren’t any missions for me to undertake right now, and my father is busy, so I can’t shadow him.”

“So, you’re here because you’re bored?” Madara asked dryly. It wasn’t like he minded the company normally—there were only so many times that one could repeat the same chores again and again before it got monotonous, after all—but it wasn’t really a great time at the moment. He was in a horrible mood and just wanted to sit around and feel sorry for himself for a few hours before he had to face Tobirama again.

Shame had hit him hard maybe half an hour before, and it was eating him alive. He needed to wallow in it and face it before the other Senju returned. It was the only surefire way that he wouldn’t snap again from the pressure of everything.

“Not at all,” Hashirama told him brightly. “If I had it my way, I’d still be in bed right now.”

“Then why aren’t you?” Madara questioned uncertainly.

“Tobirama got called out on a mission,” Hashirama informed him. “He’ll be gone for two weeks. I’m here to housesit!”

Madara scowled at this. “He sent you over here to housesit? Does he think that I’m going to destroy the place while he’s gone?”

“I don’t think so,” Hashirama said. “It probably has more to do with the lack of supplies here. Also, he might just be concerned with leaving you alone for so long. I doubt that anyone wants to be by themselves for two straight weeks.”

“I don’t need company,” Madara said coolly. Tension started forming in his gut. It was an uneasy feeling of more shame falling down on him. Tobirama was this way just to spite him, Madara was certain. It was the only thing that made any sense. He was being thoughtful just to drive him insane.

“Come on, Madara,” Hashirama said, shutting the door behind him, as though afraid that Madara would bodily attempt to throw him out. “It’ll be fun! It’s been years since we’ve had a chance to spend any time together!” He walked past Madara to the living room and Madara saw the backpack that he had slung across his shoulders. Great, he’d already brought his things for a few nights at least. Even as Madara tried to keep his mood sour, the thought of being around his best friend again did feel kind of nice. There was one problem with this.

“It’d be a lot better if it wasn’t a forced thing,” Madara informed him. “This isn’t really the best circumstances to have a slumber party.”

Hashirama’s shoulders slumped at that, and Madara sighed. He hadn’t outgrown his random bouts of depression, that much was clear. He turned around and looked at Madara pitifully. “I’m sorry about this.” His voice was smooth and calm, much to Madara’s surprise. He wasn’t blubbering at all. “This is not how I wanted things to be, I swear.”

“I know,” Madara replied softly, because he really did know. He and Hashirama had spent hours at a time talking to each other at the banks of that river, speaking of peace and dreaming up a fantastic village where everyone would be able to live soundly. He’d wanted it badly too, but it had been a foolish dream that they should have given up on before it had ever been mentioned. Peace wasn’t real. To gain it for one group of people, the peace of another group had to be disrupted. The only reality, it seemed, was a never-ending cycle of war and death in an effort to obtain something that was unobtainable.

“I wish that there was something that I could do. I wish that I had enough power to free you all from this.” Hashirama said. “I never thought that my father would go this far in his efforts, though I guess that I was wrong about him. From the way things seem to be, I’m just glad that he didn’t completely slaughter your entire clan.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Madara said. He and Hashirama were technically on different sides, but they had never been enemies. He’d always hated seeing Hashirama down. He was too cheery of an individual, and it was fundamentally wrong for him to be genuinely upset. Besides, it wasn’t like the Uchiha’s would have been anymore merciful if the outcome had been reversed. This hatred went both ways. “You’ll be head of your clan one of these days,” Madara assured him. “You can fix things when you are.”

Hashirama smiled at that. “You’re right, I guess. I hope that you can hold off until then.”

Madara just nodded, even if he was uncertain if he would be able to. Tobirama was making it hard for him to remain sane. He didn’t think that it was truly possible to kill someone with kindness, but that was what it felt like was happening to Madara. A part of him just wanted to give in and allow himself to be treated the way that Tobirama was treating him, like he was a guest instead of a captive, and another part of him was screaming that it was treasury to allow himself such comforts. The two parts were warring loudly against each other in his head, giving him the largest migraine that he’d ever had.

“Is there something wrong?” Hashirama asked him as he slung his pack on the couch. He leaned against the back of the piece of furniture and looked at Madara with concern. “You look uncertain about something, and you look tired. How have you been sleeping?”

Madara knew that Hashirama was an accomplished user of medical ninjutsu, possibly the most accomplished that he’d ever met. He was all too familiar with the human body, and the signs and symptoms of different issues. The oaf might have acted like he was oblivious to most things, but he wasn’t. Hashirama could be the most perceptive of people when he chose to be. _Why did he choose now to start looking for problems?_

“I’m fine,” Madara said, trying to keep his voice as normal as possible. He walked around the couch and sat in the armchair, carefully composing his features before he looked up at Hashirama. “Nothing’s wrong. You must be imagining things.”

“Is that so?” Hashirama questioned thoughtfully. “That’s funny, because Tobirama said something different from that. I’m pretty sure his exact words were ‘ _Uchiha’s in one hell of a mood right now.’_ Is there something wrong, Madara? You can talk to me; it won’t go any farther than us, I swear.”

Madara was silent, uncertain of how to respond. Damn Tobirama for mentioning it to Hashirama. The fool was too curious to let something like that pass by without inquiring about it. Silence spread through the house as Hashirama waited for his answer. He kept his mouth stubbornly shut, wondering if he could let something slip without saying anything about it. Tobirama seemed to be good at picking up things like that, and he didn’t know if his older brother shared that trait or not. He didn’t want to talk about it to anyone, let alone his best friend.

“Does it have something to do with your injuries?” Hashirama questioned after a few moments. “You’re not really clumsy enough to slip and tip coffee on yourself. Did you get into an argument with brother—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Madara said abruptly. “Just shut up and give me some time to think.”

Hashirama smiled at him understandingly as he grabbed his bag. “Just listen to me for a moment, and then I promise that I’ll be quiet.”

Madara sighed and turned to look at him expectantly.

“You’re in a horrible situation right now, Madara,” Hashirama told him. “I get that you’re unhappy, and I don’t blame you for being upset with it. Anyone that was in your position would be. The only thing that I’m going to say is that if you’re not betraying your clan in anyway, then what’s the point in being totally miserable when someone’s offering to make your situation just a little brighter. I know that Tobirama can be a total piece of work when he chooses to be unkind, but he’s not a bad person. You only really know him by his reputation, which is cold, calculating and ruthless. In reality, he’s actually a really nice guy with a really big heart. He tries his best to hide it by hiding behind that stoic mask all the time. If he’s offering you some sort of kindness, there’s a good chance it’s completely genuine, and there’s no catch at all. He really does feel bad about your situation as well, and wants you to be as happy as you can while you’re here.”

Hashirama walked down the hallway with that last word and left Madara alone with his thoughts.

_Hashirama is biased about all of this,_ Madara told himself. _It’s his brother, of course he’s biased._ That wasn’t necessarily true, though. When Hashirama had thought that Tobirama was involved in the humiliation of his entire clan, he’d jumped on his brother’s case very quickly, not bothering to try and stand up for him. Madara had noticed quite a few kind acts that Tobirama had done, most of which didn’t have any possible ulterior motive, such as keeping the fridge stocked with fresh foods, even though Tobirama didn’t cook at all. He’d offered to buy him new clothes, and had kept him company late at night despite having to get up early the next morning to go to work.

_I already know that there weren’t any ulterior motives,_ Madara finally admitted. _I was just using that as a flimsy excuse to ward off what’s really worrying me._ He was scared of what this kindness meant. Tobirama was a strange person with a lot of quirks, but Madara wasn’t without his own ticks. Despite all of it, Madara saw Tobirama as someone that he would make fast friends with. His father’s words rang in his head loudly and he winced at the harshness of them. He’d been taught that friendship and closeness were lies meant to break down someone’s defenses and ruin them psychologically. Hashirama had proven that the words that his father told him were not always true, but they were correct far more than they were incorrect. How likely was it that his father would prove to be incorrect about Tobirama as well?

_Hashirama has no reason to lie._ That was the truth as well. Hashirama _hated_ seeing people hurt, so there was no way that he was just telling Madara this in hopes that he would get himself hurt.

“I know that I promised to leave you alone with your thoughts,” Hashirama’s voice broke him out of his own personal bubble. He turned around and looked at his old friend, which was standing near the hallway with his back against the wall near the dining table. “I will as soon as you let me look at those burns. They don’t look too comfortable, and I can tell that you never paid attention to any of your first aid classes.”

Madara just glared at Hashirama, but didn’t say anything as the eldest Senju moved closer to him. He eventually knelt down on the ground next to Madara and brought his hand up. When the glowing green chakra touched his skin, he sighed in relief as the burning quickly went away.

He couldn’t believe how much he trusted Hashirama. It took absolutely no effort and no stress at all. Why couldn’t it be the same way with Tobirama? _It could,_ his conscience informed him, sounding almost annoyed, as though his uncertainty was enough to make his own mind aggravated with him. _Just choose! Do you trust him, or do you not? You need to hurry up and come up with a solution to this, because he’s going to eventually get tired of your bullshit. People can only be nice and patient to idiots for so long, you know._ Madara felt his eye twitch. So, he was insulting himself now, was he?

“Hashirama,” Madara finally relented, feeling quite pathetic, “what should I do?”

His friend paused for a moment before he continued administering the chakra down his torso. “I’m not here to tell you what to do, Madara,” Hashirama murmured to him. “If I tell you to trust me and my brother, is it really going to make you?”

“It won’t, I suppose,” Madara admitted.

“That’s right,” Hashirama nodded as he ran his hands over the last of his wounds. “Do you have any more burns?”

“Yeah, on my legs,” Madara said, already standing up and pulling his loose pants off so that he was only clad in his boxers. Hashirama moved on to the blisters there without any comment.

“Do you have any sort of advice?” Madara questioned.

“You have trust issues,” Hashirama said, looking up at him with a sad smile. “I don’t know what they stem from, because you refuse to talk about it, and that’s alright, but I do know that you have them. What you need to ask yourself is what is it about Tobirama that you truly distrust aside from the fact that he’s the son of the leader of your enemy clan. Has Tobirama ever deceived you, or has he ever given you a reason to doubt him in any way? Has he ever tried to harm you?”

Once he finished with Madara’s legs, he stood back up and grabbed his wrist, pulling his palm up so that he could get his hands. Madara just watched him, unsure of what to say. He didn’t know how to respond to that.

“The one thing that you need to understand,” Hashirama said, “is that if Tobirama was going to do something to harm you, he would have already. The longer that you’re here, the more likely you are to get used to your surroundings and lash out against him. You’re currently in the most vulnerable situation you could possibly be, and Tobirama is in the perfect position to do as he pleases. My brother is a genius tactician, if he was planning something, he wouldn’t let such a perfect opportunity go by.”

“We’re supposed to hate each other,” Madara said weakly. “Why would I trust him when I know that one simple fact?”

“I don’t know how Tobirama feels about you,” Hashirama admitted as he grabbed Madara’s other palm and began healing that one as well, “but I can say that it isn’t hate. It isn’t anymore, at least. He doesn’t spend as much time fretting about things that he hates. I already know that there is enough food in this house for you to get by for two weeks. It might not be the best tasting food, or the largest meals, but you could survive two weeks off it. We’re ninja, we’ve learned to survive off almost nothing at all. He asked me to come over here so you won’t be alone, and so you wouldn’t have to deal with that. He’s being considerate and trying to make you as comfortable as possible.”

He released finally released Madara’s hand and backed away. Madara quickly put back on his pants and sat back down on the armchair. His mind was moving too fast as he tried to process all of this information. Madara hoped that Hashirama was finished, because he didn’t know how much more he could handle at this point, especially when all of the information was basically slapping him over the face with how stupid he had been.

As if he was just trying to drive it even more firmly into Madara’s head, Hashirama just smiled and said, “Tobirama isn’t the best with words, I don’t know if you’ve noticed that at all over the past month or so. He’s invaluable when it comes to business matters, but personal matters are something completely different. I don’t know what you guys have talked about, but if he has mentioned something about not hating you, he probably meant it. If he hasn’t said anything at all about his feelings toward you, then just ignore that and pay attention to his actions. They speak more loudly than anything he could say to you will anyway.”

“Thank you for your advice,” Madara said quietly. He allowed that all to soak in for a few moments before he whipped his head up and glared at Hashirama as though they hadn’t just had a heart-to-heart conversation about his little brother. “If this ever goes any farther than between us, then death sentence be damned, I will—”

Hashirama quickly held his hands up in front of him and quickly yelped, “I promise it’s not going to go any farther than us!” He stayed that way for a moment before Madara felt his glare soften. Hashirama smiled and asked, “Are you going to finally lighten up and give my little brother the chance that he deserves?”

“I guess I don’t have much of a choice,” Madara grumbled. “The way that you’re slinging around praises of him, you’ve left no room for much doubt.”

Hashirama positively beamed as he dove at Madara, pulling him into a bone-crushing hug. Madara grunted as he was slammed even farther back into the chair. He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t stop a weak smile from curling onto his lips. His best friend was such an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you liked it! How do you feel about Madara's decisions? You feel as though it took too long to get to this point, or is it understandable given the circumstances? And I don't know if you've noticed, but Hashirama totally ships them (total headcannon for me).


	11. Unhappy Situations

Sometimes Tobirama hated his job. The only merciful thing was that his students weren’t with him. He loved them dearly, as though they were his own children, but they were young, only ten years old, and they could get loud and noisy. The jerk that he was protecting was a piece of work with a short temper and a bad disposition. If he would have gotten snarky with any of his students, Tobirama didn’t know what he would have done. It would be sufficient to say that they wouldn’t have been paid for their services.

Watanabe looked exactly like his picture had depicted him. He was bald, and his head was a nearly perfect sphere. Tobirama hadn’t honestly though that people could have a head like that. He had a rather bushy mustache that completely covered his upper lip and wiggled when the man spoke. It was rather distracting, so Tobirama was glad that he was a man of few irritable words. He’d been gone for a solid week already, and knew that he’d be on the road with Watanabe for at least another three days. Thankfully, the contract only called for him to see the merchant to the new storefront. He didn’t have to do anything more. He’d happily take his money and go.

Tobirama didn’t know why Watanabe had needed a ninja; he had a rather large arsenal of thugs for hire that encircled his multitude of wagons that were slowly moving north. It was a bit of a bother when they’d switched from open roads to forests. The trails were much narrower, and the procession was much slower with so many people. At this rate, it’d be a lot longer than three days on the damned trail.

Tobirama was at the end of the line, walking by himself as he looked around, listening for any signs of danger. Some of the thugs had tried to walk with him and start up conversations, though most of them had been about good ways to hurt and injure victims. The pointless violence that these hooligans thrived off of pissed him off, and he’d very coldly let that be known. Aside from a few dirty looks, the others had let that pass without any argument and had kept their distance.

_I wonder how Madara’s holding up with only Hashirama as company._ Tobirama couldn’t help but smirk at the thought. He wondered if Madara would thank him or curse him when he returned. _It might not be either,_ he realized dryly. He and Madara hadn’t parted ways on a positive note, and Tobirama figured that he’d probably nurture that anger long enough for Tobirama to return. He struck Tobirama as someone that would be spiteful enough to do something like that.

He supposed that it would be totally up to Madara what the next move between them was. Tobirama was willing, if only for the sake of convenience, to forget about the hatred between the Uchiha and the Senju. Madara seemed to be of a much more stubborn mindset. Hopefully spending a couple of weeks with Hashirama nonstop would be enough to convince him that not all of the Senju are hateful, violent killers, or, at least that wasn’t all that they could be. His brother was much too goofy and soft to be a mindless killer. He was the largest pacifist that Tobirama knew, and, if Hashirama’s stories were true, then Madara was one too, even if it was deep down.

Tobirama broke away from his thoughts and looked up. The sky was beginning to darken, being sped up by the process of rain clouds. Tobirama sighed quietly.

“Yamazaki!” he called out. He hated having to project his voice out so loud, but the band of thugs were all talking, and it was the only way to communicate with the front of the trail. Yamazaki was walking next to Watanabe’s wagon. Tobirama supposed that he was Watanabe’s personal servant but wasn’t really sure. He didn’t care enough to inquire about it either. The only thing that he knew was that Yamazaki was the only other man who’s voice regularly stayed below an ear-aching volume. Honestly, Tobirama was just surprised that they hadn’t been stopped by a band of thieves yet with how loud the thugs were being. He didn’t know how they were still alive with all of their stupidity.

Yamazaki turned around and walked backwards at the same pace as the wagon as he looked at Tobirama. Thankfully, Tobirama was a taller man and stood above the rest of the gang of men so that they could make eye contact. “It’s getting dark, and it’s going to rain. Tell Watanabe that we need to stop for the night. It’ll be too difficult to travel on this road until tomorrow morning.”

Yamazaki nodded in acknowledgement before he turned around and began speaking in a much quieter voice.

A few moments later, they stopped and began leading the wagons and horses into the forest. Tobirama jumped up into the trees and directed them to a nearby clearing. It wasn’t very large, but it would be enough for a few small tents, a quick campfire before the rain put it out, and the horses and wagons.

Tobirama quickly and efficiently set his tent up and dropped his pack inside of it before moving his hands to form a few quick signs. It was a quick, jutsu that was similar to a sealing jutsu, and would keep his tent safe from the rest of the men around while he was outside, patrolling for trouble. He’d come up with it a few years before in an effort to keep Hashirama away from the rodents that he’d been using to test some jutsu on when he’d been on a huge animal rights craze. It was one of the most convenient jutsu that he’d ever come up with. It certainly worked better than a lock and key.

He stepped away from his tent and slowly looked around. The men were walking all through the clearing, some carrying dead animals while others had firewood in their hand. The majority of them had gathered in the middle of the clearing, obviously getting ready for supper. Watanabe, of course, was in a large tent a few yards away from the center, probably with Yamazaki.

“You must not be a very agreeable sort of shinobi,” a man walked up to him and stood next to him. He seemed like a nice enough person; his voice was open and friendly. His blue eyes were bright and kind. Tobirama immediately distrusted him. It wasn’t that he was prejudice against thugs, but he knew what type of man this was. He was the kind to attack after his target’s guard was lowered.

“I am a shinobi on a job,” Tobirama replied, doing another sweep around the perimeter. He might be a sensor type, but it didn’t really help with highwaymen or thieves that weren’t ninja, so he had to remain constantly vigilant. “I was trained that you do not joke around or relax on a job. You remain serious until it is finished.”

“Why so rigid?” the man asked. “You can get the job done correctly either way. You’re a shinobi, you’re supposed to be able to do superhumanly insane things. I figured that of all people, you’d be able to slack off the most.”

Tobirama didn’t know why the man wanted to know, but he figured that there was no harm in answering. It wasn’t like the answer wasn’t obvious anyway. “We’re competing against other clans for these jobs. How well and professionally we handle our work dictates whether or not we get clients back a second time around.”

“Ah,” the man nodded. “You do it to keep a good name for yourself.”

“You might want to try it,” Tobirama added dryly. He wondered if the encouragement would at least cause the volume of the men to tone down a bit, even if just by one voice.

“Shinobi are different from our kind of people,” the man replied, a friendly smile curling on his face. “We don’t need to be professional or strict to get jobs. We just have to get them done to get more customers.”

“Is that so?” Tobirama questioned. He guessed that it would make sense. No one expected a thug to be eloquent or honest, let alone professional. They went around and caused mayhem like that was their one and only calling.

“Listen,” the man said, “I think that you and all of us got off on the wrong foot a few days back.” He stuck out his hand and said, “The name’s Sasaki.”

Tobirama looked at him wearily before he sighed and returned the handshake. “Senju,” Tobirama replied.

“Well, Senju,” Sasaki said. “Why don’t you come and sit down for a few minutes with us. I’m sure that you’ll find we’re really not that bad. I’d like to hear a bit more about how ninjas handle everything; you all have always fascinated me.”

Tobirama shook his head. “I have rounds to make,” he declined. “I don’t have time for a fireside visit.”

“Nomura! Onishi!” Sasaki called out. Two men standing toward the back of the group turned around and faced both Tobirama and Sasaki. “Go and do some rounds in the forest. Make sure that everything is secure! I think our ninja friend here needs to warm himself up by the fire.”

The duo only nodded and rushed away from the fire, quickly disappearing behind the tree line a few moments later. “There,” Sasaki told him. “There’s no worries now.”

“They can’t keep a lookout like I can,” Tobirama argued, moving to go inside of the forest.

“Come on,” Sasaki’s voice turned almost whiny, reminding him of his older brother. At that, Tobirama gave pause and sighed. He’d never been able to deny that voice for too long. He closed his eyes for a moment before he turned back around and looked at Sasaki.

“Fine,” he said, “but only for a few minutes. We should all be resting as soon as possible. We still have another two days’ worth of travel before we arrive in the capital.”

“That’s all I ask,” Sasaki promised as he walked toward the fire with Tobirama following behind.

Sasaki pushed through the crowd until they were at the front of the fire. It was crackling merrily while a pot was hung above it on a strange stand. It was bubbling merrily with some sort of stew. A man was standing over the pot ladling out bowls and passing it back. Tobirama sat on a tree stump and watched the procession. Once the men had their share, they quickly walked away from the fire and went inside of their tents. Quite soon, things had started to get quieter and quieter until there was only a soft murmur. The silence soothed his ears and he found himself starting to relax just a bit.

“Two bowls over here,” Sasaki ordered.

“I’m not—” Tobirama tried to protest, but Sasaki just laughed and shook his head as he quickly cut him off.

“You have to at least try it! The rabbit stew is to die for.”

Tobirama sighed as the bowls circled around. Sasaki handed him one and Tobirama murmured a quiet thankyou before he grabbed the spoon and took a small scoop out of it. The taste really was good. It was a rich flavor, mixed with just the right herbs and spices to compliment the gamey taste of the wild rabbit.

“This is very good,” Tobirama complimented as he took another spoonful. He’d been surviving off ration bars and food pills for the past seven days. It hadn’t been a fun week, needless to say. Madara had really spoiled him with the home-cooked meals the near month that they’d lived together.

Sasaki smiled cordially at him as he sipped at his own bowl. “So, tell me, Senju. How long have you been a ninja?”

“I started training when I was four,” Tobirama said quietly. “I officially became a shinobi at the age of five, so eighteen to nineteen years.”

Sasaki whistled. “You guys start off _young_ , though I guess it’s understandable. Your clan was at war with the Uchihas for generations. They needed all of the soldiers that they could get.”

“Yes,” Tobirama said. He continued eating his stew. He disliked being questioned, but he supposed that it was a pretty fair trade if he was going to get something as delicious as this broth out of the deal.

“In that amount of time, I’m sure you’ve seen a lot,” Sasaki said sympathetically. “It’s probably made you pretty strong as a warrior.”

Tobirama sighed as he turned to look at the man next to him. His heart started racing at the small movement alone, and it was as though he could feel it beat through his entire body, and it was all he could hear. He immediately dropped the bowl to the ground as he clenched his hands into fists. Sasaki’s smile turned into a feral grin almost instantaneously.

His brain was moving too slow to comprehend much other than he was in a very bad situation. A second later, there was a horrible pain in his gut. He found himself flying backward and landing on the ground with a hard thud. If the kick hadn’t taken his breath away, the landing certainly did.

He tasted blood all through his mouth, grimacing at the disgusting metallic taste that swirled around on his tongue. He was rolled over so that he was looking at Sasaki, who was still sitting on his tree stump. Tobirama moved, struggling to get up, but his entire body felt like it was full of led. He remained silent as another kick was administered to him. A cruel laugh hit his ears. Sasaki slowly got to his feet and sauntered toward him.

“So, this is a big, bad _ninja_ , boys!” he called out mockingly as he kicked Tobirama in the chest. Despite his armor, he was certain that the blow broke a couple of ribs. “Looks like they’re pretty much the same as us lowly mortals once some sedatives are put in their food.”

Their guffaws were causing his head to spin. The men that had gone into their tents had come back out and were smirking at the commotion. Tobirama had enough presence of mind to know that the odds of him making it out of this mess were not good, actually they were looking slimmer and slimmer as the seconds ticked by.

“Alright boys!” Sasaki called out. “Tie him up!”

Tobirama was snatched off the ground none too gently, and he felt himself moving backward. A few seconds later, his back slammed against a huge tree. He tried his best to struggle, but his body refused to move at all. He was curious as to how he was unable to move, but the pain from all of the blows that he’d taken was still very strong.

“You know,” Sasaki said as they wrapped rope around his midsection tightly. It was enough to keep him standing up, against the rough tree bark. “When I was a boy, I wanted to be a ninja. I was told that I had no talent in the matter. The thought of killing people for a living was just too fun for me to pass up, though. I think that the mercenary life is much better, anyway.”

“Hey, Sasaki!” one of the lackey’s that had tied him up called out. Something went flying through the air and Sasaki caught it. It was his weapon’s pouch. It had been untouched for the entire trip, so it was filled with shuriken, kunai and all sorts of exploding tags.

Sasaki immediately grinned and unzipped it, pulling out a shuriken and kunai at the same time. He examined them in the light of the fire with an almost sadistic glint in his eye. Tobirama didn’t like that look at all.

“What is the meaning of this?!”

Tobirama slowly looked around and saw Watanabe being drug forward by two more thugs. The man looked positively green in the pale moonlight as he was pulled to a stop right beside Sasaki.

“I demand to know why I was pulled from my sleep at once!” Watanabe shouted in Sasaki’s face.

Tobirama’s mind was slowly starting to get used to the presence of the sedatives fogging up his brain. It didn’t make much of a difference, but his thoughts were at least a bit clearer now. _Shut up, idiot,_ Tobirama thought as he looked at the pair. Sasaki was just smiling dangerously as Watanabe shouted. The thugs still had a hold of him as he wriggled, trying his best to free himself.

Tobirama blinked, but it was a slow one, as he clenched his eyes shut and opened them again in an effort to clear his mind even more. When he could see again, Watanabe was on his knees, looking positively horrified. He’d stopped shouting, but Tobirama could tell that it was too late. No pleading in the world could stop what Tobirama saw was about to happen.

He tried to move, squirming desperately around. His movements were sluggish and not very well executed. The rope didn’t break, obviously, and he wasn’t going anywhere at all from the looks of it. He could only watch helplessly as Sasaki cackled.

“This is your paycheck, right?” Sasaki asked, looking up at Tobirama. “You were supposed to give him safe passage to the capital! I think that you failed your mission!”

The laughter was getting louder and louder, clogging up his head as it started spinning yet again. He was getting nauseous, and he didn’t fight it as he vomited. Some of it got on his front before he could move to the side. He let all of the contents out of his stomach, praying that he’d gotten rid of all of the stew. His head didn’t feel any clearer yet, but he knew that it would soon if he was lucky.

When he looked over again, he saw Watanabe looking at him pleadingly, silently begging him to do something. Tobirama looked back just as helplessly, knowing that there was nothing at all that he would be able to do.

He felt like he was going to be sick again when Sasaki came up behind Watanabe and brought the kunai to his neck. He didn’t turn away however as he slashed across the flesh, opening it wide. Blood spattered out, getting all over the ground and some of the thugs that were standing around. The laughter got louder at this gory scene. He was fairly sure that Watanabe was pleading and screaming as it happened, but he wasn’t able to separate the noises of the crowd over the helpless man that he’d been employed to protect.

“I guess you failed to protect him, Senju,” Sasaki shouted. At the sound of his voice, the rest of the crowd went silent. “I don’t know why you were so stuck up before. It’s obvious that you’re not any better than the rest of us! At least we finished our job!” The rest of the men hooted in agreement, shouting out insults and curses at him. “The big, bad Senju clan aren’t really all that tough, huh? The Uchiha must be even more pathetic.”

“My brother,” Tobirama said quietly.

“Shut up, guys!” Sasaki called out. “I think that Senju is trying to speak to us!”

The entire clearing immediately turned hauntingly quiet.

“My brother,” Tobirama repeated, “and my friend would level landscapes when they clashed. They would destroy you all.”

“Would they now?” Sasaki asked sarcastically. “What happened to you, huh? Did you just not inherit the brains and the talent, then? I guess your brother just got everything, did he? You must be that disappointment child with nothing going for them.”

“I guess I am,” Tobirama replied.

“Well,” Sasaki said brightly, “I guess I can brush up on my ninja skills as we put you out of your misery.”

His mind was slowly starting to clear. Whatever kind of sedative that they used wasn’t a very long-lasting one, which was a godsend. He quickly analyzed his situation with a fresh sweep of everything and realized that all hope wasn’t lost. Things looked incredibly grim, but these men were idiots, if nothing else. He refused to think of what that said about him, being tricked by them like he had been. He could kick himself for it later…if he was alive to do it.

Cautiously, Tobirama moved his legs in small increments, not wanting to give anything away. His muscles were still slow and almost not responding at all, but it was still more than he’d been able to do when they’d first tied him up. If he managed to escape now, he’d be caught too easily, and he’d never have another chance. Luckily, it seemed as though they wanted to take their time in killing him, so he’d have a chance. He saw Sasaki raise a shuriken and gritted his teeth together. So that’s what he meant by brushing up on his ninja skills. This really was going to suck.

 

 

Madara sighed as Hashirama finally made it back to the house. He’d just finished with the soba and had taken his seat on the couch. “That smells amazing,” Hashirama said longingly, staring at the kitchen.

“Well then go and get some,” Madara grunted. He’d eaten a bit too much, and his stomach was aching. It was an uncomfortable feeling followed by fierce regret, but it really had been good.

Hashirama sat on the armchair with a pair of disposable chopsticks and a rather hefty plate himself. Madara looked at him with a raised eyebrow, but said nothing as Hashirama immediately started digging in. He’d bought all of the ingredients, after all. “This is sooooo good!” Hashirama said. Madara pointedly looked away. The man didn’t have enough manners to wait until he’d swallowed his food to talk.

“Did you eat at all today?” Madara questioned, raising an eyebrow at his friend.

Thankfully, he’d managed to ask in between bites, and Hashirama’s mouth was blissfully empty when he answered. “No. I had a short mission to do today for father. Then I shadowed him for like five straight hours. After that, I had to spend a least a little time with Mito. She’s very understanding of everything, but I’d hate to neglect her.”

Madara was silent for a few moments, waiting for an explanation, but none came. Slurping noises met his ears and he grimaced at it. He was _never_ cooking soba for Hashirama again. “Who’s Mito?” Madara finally inquired.

“She’s my fiancé!” Hashirama cried. His eyes were shining with pure adoration as he stared off into space, obviously thinking of her.

The look made Madara slightly nauseous, and he had to look away before the intensity of it made him sick. There was something wrong with Hashirama. That was the only explanation that Madara could think of. There was no way that a fully-grown man should be able to maintain that expression and still have an air of dignity around him.

“She’s beautiful,” Hashirama gushed. “She has long, red hair, dark eyes, and a pale, perfect complexion. She’s smart, level-headed, and so kind. I’ve never met an angel before, but I’m almost certain that’s what she is!”

_Why did you even ask?_ Madara mentally slapped himself for his foolishness. He thought the _expression_ was bad enough. The mushy voice and the gushy words were enough to make him hurl.

“I see,” Madara said carefully, not wanting to push Hashirama into another fit.

Hashirama seemed to detect something in his voice, because his mood seemed to almost instantly deflate as he picked at the remains of his soba. “Do you have anyone special, Madara?” he asked him softly. Hashirama’s dark eyes were saddened, and Madara recognized that expression from the last seven days and from years ago. It was that same look Hashirama had before he went into a depressed state. “Is she in the compound?”

“No, there is no one,” Madara said quickly. In an effort to avoid one of his famous mood swings, he didn’t even think as he blurted out, “If there were, it wouldn’t be a woman.”

Silence enveloped the room, and Madara flinched at that. The same thing had happened when he’d mentioned to his father that he had more of an interest in men than women. He slowly turned his head and saw that Hashirama was shoveling another bit of soba into his mouth.

He said something, but it was too muffled for Madara to understand. All he saw was mushed noodles and vegetables.

“Will you _please_ finish chewing your damn food before you speak!” Madara snapped at him.

Hashirama immediately snapped his mouth shut and finished eating that mouthful before he spoke. “There’s no reason to look uneasy,” Hashirama told him. “Did you really think that I was going to be concerned about that? Tobirama told me about his preferences years ago. I couldn’t care less. You’re very clearly still Madara Uchiha to me.”

Madara couldn’t help but smile at Hashirama’s words. He would simply inquire about the Tobirama comment later. At this point, he really needed to be more focused on other things.

“You’re around your father a lot,” Madara said, switching subjects up a bit.

Hashirama nodded in agreement as he finished off the last of his soba and stood up. He heard the plate clattering into the sink a moment later. “What about it?” Hashirama called out.

“Have you heard any news about my clan?” Madara asked.

Hashirama slowly walked out of the kitchen and smiled at Madara. “I’m sorry that I haven’t tried to give you updates sooner. How rude of me.”

“I understand,” Madara said quickly, and he did. Hashirama had been under a lot of pressure for the past week. His only reprieve had been that first day. After that, he’d been gone for the entire day and showing up late at night, looking positively exhausted. “I don’t expect you to remember everything. I didn’t want to push you, or anything when you’re exhausted. You just seemed a bit more up to talking today.”

“Thank you for your consideration,” Hashirama said. “I do know some things about your clan. Father hasn’t hidden them from me, but I haven’t been out to the compound myself. I don’t think that father wants me to see it, if I’m being completely honest.”

“So how are they doing?” Madara urged.

“They’ve all been issued the same collars that you are supposed to have on,” Hashirama said. “Aside from that, there’s really nothing horrible happening to them. They’ve been farming the lands just outside of the compound that they have. They keep half of the produce for themselves, and the rest of it goes to the Senju clan. We provide meat for them in exchange for the vegetables. It’s not much, but it’s some.”

Madara was silent for a few moments, processing all of this. “You’re sure that this is the truth?”

“I don’t see why my father would fabricate papers for him to sign just to lie to me,” Hashirama said. “I have no say in how this clan is run. My opinion doesn’t count for the politics of the Senju, and it certainly means nothing to him. I believe that the reason that he kept your clan alive is to set examples for other unfriendly clans. _We did this to our greatest rivals, imagine what we would do to a nobody like you._ ”

“It’s a good tactic,” Madara agreed. The twisting in his gut had lessened some. He hated the thought of this being their reality, but there was little he could do at the moment. At least they weren’t harmed in any way.

Hashirama grimaced, and Madara looked at him sharply. Obviously, he hadn’t shared everything that he knew yet.

“What else is there?” Madara asked him quietly, dread already beginning to settle in his stomach.

“You see,” Hashirama said. “Your father and brother are not at the Uchiha compound. If I’m understanding this correctly, they were taken away from there the day that you were taken here. They’ve been put in a literal prison with our clan’s traitors, if I’m not mistaken. I’m sorry, Madara, but it looks like they’re sentenced there for the rest of their natural lives.”

“My little brother is rotting in prison right now,” Madara said faintly. “The only brother I have left is in jail with other Senju….” He looked up at Hashirama as numbness spread from his chest.

“They’re unharmed,” Hashirama said quickly. “Toka Senju, my closest cousin is the woman that is in charge of their imprisonment. She’s a bit rough around the edges, but she’s not a bad person. She’s not going to needlessly torment them.”

“Are you certain?” Madara asked him. It was impossible to really trust what he was saying. He knew Tobirama and Hashirama only; he didn’t really know this Toka woman very well. He’d talked to her once, that was all.

“Yes,” Hashirama said. “I believe that your brother’s flirtations are starting to wear on her. The last time she complained about him, her face turned a startling shade of red. It makes sense, I guess, Izuna was always a handsome boy. Toka can pretend all she wants, but she enjoys the attention. I doubt that she’s going to do anything to harm him while he’s giving it to her.” Hashirama was silent for a few moments before he said, “You do know that your father is in there too, right?”

“Ah, yes,” Madara replied, feeling guilty about that. He’d just completely bypassed Tajima and had gone straight to worrying about Izuna. “How is he doing?”

“He’s fine as well, from what I hear. He refuses to speak to anybody, but aside from that, he’s fine. His pride is still well intact,” Hashirama reported. He was silent for a few moments, just looking at Madara with a sad smile. “I’m guessing that you and your father never really got to see eye-to-eye, huh?”

“No, but it’s not that. He’s still my dad…it’s just that he’s a grown man that led his clan for years in war against your clan without even considering the idea of peace. He, at the very least, did something to deserve his imprisonment,” Madara muttered. “Izuna is completely innocent of all this. He didn’t have a choice, just like me. He’s a victim in this, and they’re treating him like a criminal.”

“Don’t worry about Izuna,” Hashirama urged Madara. “Toka isn’t going to harm him. He might be in there for a while, but things will eventually change.”

“I guess that you’re right,” Madara conceded.

Silence enveloped them for a few minutes, and Madara was grateful for Hashirama letting him soak all of the information up in peace and quiet. After a while, however, Hashirama looked to be getting antsy. He had never been good with silences, after all.

“I wonder how Tobirama’s doing,” Madara finally relented, moving on to a much safer subject. Hashirama adored bragging on his younger brother, that much had become blatantly obvious in these past few days. Madara allowed him to do so, wanting to learn as much about the man that he was living with as possible.

“Probably munching on a ration bar in the forest,” Hashirama said with a smile. “He doesn’t cook, so that’s about all he lives off of on missions. I’m sure that he’s about to do a few rounds around their camp before setting a load of traps and getting some shuteye. A mission like that actually sounds fun right about now. I know that you have to be craving something like that. You’ve been cooped up in this house for over a month.”

“You’re right about that,” Madara agreed. “I just hope he has enough fun for the both of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed the chapter, the longest of the story yet. What are your thoughts on Tobirama's current situation?


	12. Unsettling News

Shuriken piercing through his skin hurt. He’d known that it was going to. It was a fact of life: the sky is blue; the grass is green; Madara is a bullheaded idiot; Hashirama is a bumbling idiot, and something sharp piercing through one’s skin hurts, especially if it is going at high speeds and thrown by an unskilled hand. Sadly, that didn’t stop the agonizing pain.

The first one that Sasaki threw embedded itself in his shoulder. He hissed lowly at that one, shutting his eyes as his head swam. The pain was overloading his dulled senses, and he knew that if he wasn’t careful, he would pass out. There was a good chance that they would wait for him to wake up to continue the torture, but Tobirama also knew that there was an equally good chance that they would just kill him while he was asleep. In a situation this risky, he couldn’t afford to take another big gamble like that.

_You need to distract yourself from the pain,_ Tobirama shouted at himself. He closed his eyes for a moment, not letting them stay that way for too long, as he considered what he should think about. Convincing Misty, his summon, to becoming a glorified pigeon was probably a good topic. It’d probably take a lot of cajoling, and not just a little bribery. He wondered how much cat nip was a good amount to offer.

The second shuriken embedded itself in his bicep, just above where the rope started. The thick amount of muscle there insured that it had to cut through quite a bit of tissue to get to the bone. Every millimeter was agonizing, but he refused to think too far into it.

He’d buy her some tuna as well. She did appreciate fish, though she looked at him with contempt every time he offered it to her, insisting that she wasn’t just some random housecat, and was above such treats…that certainly didn’t stop her from inhaling it when she thought that Tobirama wasn’t looking.

The third Shuriken hit his leg, though this one only grazed his outer thigh before it embedded itself into the tree behind him. Yeah, it had hurt, but it wasn’t anything that would hinder him in his escape…if it had been any deeper, he’d definitely be in trouble.

He bit his lip to control the anxiety. The catnip and tuna would probably be enough to convince her. She’d be offended but would do it anyway.

_A new topic_ , he thought hurriedly as the next shuriken hit the rope. It went through a bit and he felt blood welling from his left forearm.

Would Madara actually accept his offer? Tobirama had been serious about not offering it a second time. That psychotic rage had unnerved him more than he would ever admit. He knew that he could put up a fight against the elder Uchiha, but he would never be able to actually best him in a battle. He was just too skilled a warrior. Tobirama made a mental note to train a bit harder than normal when he healed from all of these wounds.

The next shuriken did exactly what Tobirama was hoping that it would. It hit his armor and bounced straight off, falling to the ground. Sasaki sighed at this and said, “Well, that’s not any fun. We should have taken off the armor before we started!”

There were murmurs of agreement throughout the ranks of thugs. Tobirama looked around, being sure to put on the act of still being drugged. He was pleased to see disappointed faces everywhere he looked.

“Get the armor off him,” Sasaki commanded.

Two men stepped forward, though they looked at Tobirama uncertainly. He willed them not to voice a protest of whether he was still drugged or not. In all honesty, he still was, but it was workable now. He’d have only a couple of seconds, but he could make that work. It was truthfully all he needed.

Tobirama felt tension in the rope for a moment before the knot was either cut or untied. A moment later, one of them was running around the tree, unwinding it. As soon as Tobirama’s hands were free, he acted. He quickly brought his hands together and began making signs as fast as he could. They almost immediately realized what he was doing, but it was too late. The entire clearing was submerged in water just as the first head of thunder clapped in the sky.

Tobirama was shaky, and knew that he wouldn’t be able to maintain consciousness for very long if the drain on his chakra was constant. He had a large reserve, but this was pushing his luck. He was certain that his body’s reserves of chakra were the only things that were keeping him up at the moment. By all rights, he should have lost consciousness the minute those sedatives kicked in.

The only spot in the clearing that was void of water was where he was standing. He saw tents, bodies, and trees swirling around in the torrent that he’d created. Lightning flashed in the sky, illuminating the horrifying sight around him right before the first drop of rain hit his cheek.

Winter would be there very soon, and the rain ensured that he’d be wet before he found shelter. He was dizzy and wounded. There was no way that he was going to be able to light a fire and keep warm on his own. At this rate, he was going to die despite getting away from the thugs.

When he felt darkness starting to enter his vision, he broke the jutsu. His knees buckled as the water disappeared and the bodies, tents, and other debris fell on the ground with a loud thud that caused his ears to ring almost painfully. Everything was still after that. Tobirama just inhaled deeply, willing away the darkness and only just managing to.

He pushed himself to his feet and weakly walked over to the familiar blue tent that was laying in pieces on the ground. Tobirama smiled weakly, seeing that the jutsu itself had worked. The contents inside of the tent hadn’t been harmed at all. He pulled his backpack out of the wreckage and opened it up. Seeing that everything inside was still alright, he quickly made the appropriate hand signs and summoned Misty.

His vision was fading, thanks to that drain in his chakra. He felt his eyelids flutter shut as he dropped to his knees.

“Tobirama!” Misty called out, sounding concerned. “Tobirama, what happened here?”

“Help,” Tobirama managed to say in a raspy voice as he fell forward in what felt like slow motion. “Need to find shelter…keep warm….”

“Grab onto my neck,” Misty told him. He blindly reached forward, his eyesight much too unfocused to see much other than a large, black and white silhouette. He didn’t have much strength left, but he managed to latch on all the same. He rolled so that he was laying limply on her back and tightened his hold even more as she stood up. A moment later, she was off, moving through the icy rain. Tobirama didn’t look to see where she was going, knowing that he would be unable to anyway. He just focused on keeping himself conscious for as long as possible.

 

 

Madara was startled when a loud voice reached his ears at a ridiculous time in the morning. The sun wasn’t out yet, and he knew that Hashirama didn’t have to be out of the house for quite a few more hours. His best friend should still be sleeping on Tobirama’s bed, knocked out and quite possibly drooling to his heart’s content.

So why was he yelling?

Grumbling to himself, Madara pushed himself into a sitting position, ripped his blankets off his lap and spun so that his feet hit the hardwood floor of his bedroom. A moment later, he was opening the door and sticking his head out into the hallway. He blinked harshly and rubbed his eyes, trying to make sure that his sleepiness wasn’t playing any tricks on his mind. When he opened them again, the image was still very much there.

Why the hell was Hashirama standing in the hallway with a huge cat…was that a _snow leopard_?

“What the hell is going on?” Madara asked, opening the door up more so that he could step out.

Hashirama spun around to look at him. Even in the moonlight, his face appeared exceptionally pale. His eyes, which were usually half-lidded due to a smile, were widened with fear and dread. Madara found his own stomach churn with mirroring emotions.

“Hashirama,” Madara said slowly, repeating his previous question. “What the hell is going on?”

It took Hashirama a moment to speak. He was visibly gathering his thoughts as he rushed into the bathroom. “Tobirama’s badly hurt!” Hashirama shouted back. “I’ve got to go and get him!”

Madara’s eyes widened in surprise. He turned to the snow leopard that was sitting in the hallway, looking at Madara with icy blue eyes. She had white, fluffy fur generously splattered with white spots. He had a feeling that if she were to stand she would be either as tall as or taller than him. This must have been the summon that Tobirama was telling him about.

“You smell like Tobirama,” the feline said. Her voice was a rich, purring noise that seemed to go straight through him. Her tone was forceful, even with a mere observation, as if she was just trying to assure him that she knew she would be able to tear him apart almost effortlessly if he gave her reason.

Madara didn’t know what to say as she walked near him, her head cocked to the side slightly. “Your scent was the strongest foreign smell that he had on him. Are you two mates?”

Madara raised an eyebrow at the question. “No,” he said after a moment. “We’re just…friends.” He didn’t really think that was the truth, but he’d be damned before he told something so powerful that they were enemies. “Let me go and get my jacket.” He rushed into his bedroom and grabbed his jacket back out of his closet, sliding it over his bare shoulders. It’d be chilly, but he wasn’t going to waste any more time.

“I’m ready to go, Misty,” Hashirama said. The large cat lowered herself so that he was able to get on. Madara went to follow, but Hashirama stopped him. “You can’t come along with us.”

“I’ll be damned,” Madara said sharply. “I owe Senju my life, and I will be around to help repay that debt no matter what I have to do.” That wasn’t the only reason; Madara had treated Tobirama poorly the morning that he’d left. There was a sinking feeling in his stomach that felt a lot like fear that he’d be unable to reconcile with him. He had to see this for himself, if only for a reassurance that Tobirama was going to be alright so that Madara would be able to find a way to make all of this up to him.

“Madara,” Hashirama pleaded. “Seriously, I don’t know what will happen if someone finds out that you’re missing.”

“No one ever comes by here anyway,” Madara snapped. “I’m not going to get caught, and I’m going whether you like it or not!” He didn’t wait for a reply before he jumped on Misty behind Hashirama. Misty turned and looked at him for a moment, and Madara wondered if he’d overstepped a boundary by not asking for permission. He wasn’t good at reading feline expressions, so he wasn’t able to discern what the look meant, but she didn’t attack, which he assumed was a good thing.

“Hold on,” she warned.

Madara gripped onto Hashirama’s midsection while Hashirama leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Misty’s neck. A minute later, he was moving so fast that it felt as though his skin might actually be separated from his skeleton, and the pressure around him was almost excruciating. He couldn’t breathe, and the noise was probably the most jarring of all. Thankfully, it was over almost as soon as it started, even if it felt as though it was going to last forever. He shakily let go of Hashirama and swayed, nearly falling off the cat.

After he caught his breath, he looked around and saw that he was sitting in an abandoned hut. It was dark, and he could barely see as he turned and jumped off the cat. As his ears stopped ringing, he was able to make out the sound of rain beating against the outside of the hut, pouring down with all of its might.

“Where the hell are we?” Madara asked as he made a few hand signs and fire came to life on his palm. It was a tickling, warm sensation that was almost comforting in the chill of the air. He spun around as he heard hurried footsteps and immediately saw why. Tobirama was laying against the wall in a corner, curled against himself as two more cats laid around him in an effort to conserve body heat.

Madara rushed forward himself, looking around worriedly. Hashirama turned back around and Madara saw him form a couple of hand signs before wood popped out of the earth. Madara already knew what it was for and knelt down to start an actual fire. It quickly roared to life. After it was taken care of, he knelt down next to Hashirama and looked at Tobirama.

“Will you be able to help him, Hashirama?” Misty questioned. She was pacing back and forth behind them, quite obviously concerned.

“I’m going to do my best, Lady Misty,” Hashirama replied, sounding distracted as he motioned for the smaller leopards to move out of the way. “From what I can tell, he’s not actually badly injured. It looks to be something else that’s causing all of this.”

“Like what?” Madara questioned. Tobirama hadn’t been wrong when he’d implied that Madara was horrible with medical ninjutsu. It was probably his worst area, and at the moment he couldn’t stand it.

Hashirama’s hands glowed green with chakra and he ran it down Tobirama’s curled body. He sighed and Madara got the silent message. He leaned over and grabbed Tobirama, rolling him over and laying him out so that Hashirama would be able to get a good look.

“He’s freezing,” Madara observed. His skin was icy to the touch. It was a very uncomfortable feeling, and it scared Madara. “He needs to get warm.”

“I know,” Hashirama said. He stood up and moved so that he was standing in front of Tobirama’s head. He reached down and curled his hands around his shoulders. He looked up at Madara, who immediately repositioned himself so that he could grab Tobirama’s legs. They stood up and brought the younger Senju up with them, walking sideways until they were near the center of the room where the fire was crackling. They sat him back down and Hashirama went back to work.

Madara looked up uncertainly and saw that all three cats were circling around the hut now, never taking their eyes off the three humans. “He has a few wounds. Some of them are down to the bone while others are just scrapes. I’m detecting two hits that look serious, one of which has punctured a major blood vessel…” Hashirama looked up at Madara with a weak smile. “I’ve never been so glad for the cold. I think his lower body temperature is the only thing that saved his life.”

Madara felt himself deflate in relief at this diagnosis. Tobirama was going to be alright from the sound of it. Hashirama wasn’t freaking out, so this was well within his realm of knowledge.

“Help me remove his top,” Hashirama said, immediately moving to unclasp one of the shoulders. Madara jumped forward and moved to Tobirama’s other side, grabbing the clasps and quickly loosening them and throwing the plates of armor aside. The side buckles were next, allowing them to remove the front. “I’d normally just cut it,” Hashirama said, gesturing to his clothes, “but he’s going to need these soon enough.”

Madara said nothing, carefully pulled Tobirama into a sitting position, ignoring how he limply leaned against him, his head lolling to the side, resting in the crook of his neck. He hated that this was the second time that Tobirama’s face had been in that same position, and how much he liked it. He pulled up on the wet fabric with Hashirama’s help, struggling to get it off his skin. After a few moments, and plenty of curses flying out of Madara’s mouth, the shirt was off and flung to the side as well. Hashirama quickly removed the back plate off the ground before Madara set Tobirama back down.

“Let me work on this,” Hashirama told Madara, gesturing to Tobirama’s shoulder region. “You try your best to get his pants off.”

Madara knew that this was absolutely no time for him to be paying attention to mortifying innuendos, but that didn’t stop a deep blush to spread across his cheeks from Hashirama’s wording. Thankfully, his friend was a bit occupied with Tobirama’s wounds and didn’t see Madara’s face. _Snap out of it!_ Madara snapped at himself. He was above such stupid thoughts, that was what Izuna was for.

His hands went for Tobirama’s belt and immediately unbuckled it, pulling the fabric slowly out of the loops in an effort not to move him while Hashirama was working. Once that was off, Madara unbuttoned Tobirama’s pants and slowly unzipped them. He took a deep breath. _You can do this,_ Madara pep-talked himself. _Just be professional. Tobirama needs you right now, and you’re_ going _to pull through, damnit!_ With that thought in his head, he completely disregarded everything else and grabbed the heavy, wet fabric where it was settled low on Tobirama’s hips and inched the pants down, alternating on pulling from each side to get more leverage.

It was a long, tedious process, and a lot harder than one would think, especially when he had to unstick his boxers from the pants to preserve Tobirama’s modesty and Madara’s sanity.

When was the last time he’d seen a naked man? Considering the fact that he couldn’t come up with an actual date, he knew that it had been way too long. He didn’t think he’d ever seen a naked man as attractive as Tobirama. Madara might have never admitted it even to himself, but he wasn’t blind. Tobirama was quite the specimen of the male species, but that hardly mattered. Madara had to live with this man indefinitely; the last thing that he wanted was a mental image of Tobirama covered in nothing but water in the back of his mind every time that he looked at the man. There was no way that he could see himself coming out of that situation sane.

“He’s going to be alright,” Hashirama said loudly, his voice was so relieved that Madara felt himself relax from the tone of it alone. He’d just gotten the pants past Tobirama’s thighs and sighed, scooting back to remove his boots before he bothered going any farther. His brain really must be completely scattered.

Once he’d managed to undress him, Madara rolled to his feet and grabbed the clothes, moving them closer to the fire to dry off a bit better.

“How did this happen?” Madara asked quietly as he turned back toward Hashirama, who had moved away from Tobirama and sat closer to the fire. “You said that something other than the wounds caused this.”

Hashirama was silent for a few moments. Madara followed his line of vision and saw that his friend was watching the smaller cats as they moved closer. They simply walked to them and laid down on either side of Tobirama again. Hashirama slowly reached over and ran his hand over the fur coat of the leopard closest to him. “Thank you for keeping him safe until we could get here.”

“He’s a brave man,” the leopard farther from Hashirama rumbled. It was a boy with a scar on the top of his head; the fur was missing in a thin strip from the middle of his forehead to the base of his ear, where the top of the cartilage was gone, leaving a jagged line behind. “He’s brave and accommodating, never taking advantage of us. We respect him. We’d never let him die.”

“I’m glad that he has someone looking out for him like that,” Hashirama said with a sad smile. “I can’t be there for him all the time, sadly.”

“Hashirama,” Madara insisted again. “What did this?”

“He was sedated,” Hashirama said quietly. He sounded subdued; completely unlike his usual self. “Something wasn’t right about him when he left. I figured that it was just me, but I was wrong. His mind wasn’t in the right place.”

“How can you tell?” Madara asked.

“How many veteran shinobi do you know would be taken down by a sedative?” Hashirama asked. “I think that it was ingested, which makes this so much worse. It means that someone laced his food. He…Tobirama’s too smart for that.”

“What are you getting at?” Madara asked, finally getting sick of Hashirama’s blabbering.

“The morning that Tobirama left, he told me that you were in a bad mood,” Hashirama said quietly. His voice sounded almost angry, which unnerved Madara more than anything else. “I asked you about it, and you just said that you didn’t want to talk about it. Madara…what happened that morning? What happened to make him this distracted for over a week? Don’t try and lie to me; I saw a large crack in the hallway wall across from the bathroom, I know at least something happened.”

Madara was silent for a few moments, just looking at the ground next to where Tobirama was laying before he looked up at Hashirama, who was still staring intently at him. His brown eyes were serious, but not angry. Hashirama wasn’t mad, just concerned. That didn’t stop the horrifying guilt and shame from wracking him, making it harder to breathe.

“I was an idiot,” he finally said quietly. “Your brother was just trying to be kind to be again, and I flipped out. I broke a coffee cup, which is how I was burned and cut, and then I went into my room. Tobirama followed me, asking to look at my burns, and it just made me even more anxious. I snapped, and…and I pinned him against a wall with my hand around his neck and a kunai at his cheek, threatening him and insulting him…. I think that I was just trying to get him to hate me as much as I wanted to hate him. I…I didn’t know this was going to happen, I swear.”

“Tobirama almost died because of this,” Hashirama said quietly. “You sound regretful and apologetic, but it shouldn’t be aimed at me. As soon as Tobirama wakes up, you need to solve things with him. This can never happen again.”

Madara nodded, unsure of what to say.

“ _Madara,”_ Hashirama said in a sharp tone. Madara snapped his head back toward Hashirama, uncertain of when he’d looked away in the first place. “I’m serious, old friend. You are going to fix things with Tobirama.”

“You don’t have to tell me that, Senju,” Madara said. “I refuse to have anymore of his blood on my hands.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this was a satisfying update! How do you feel about Madara's resolve to speak to Tobirama? How do you think that's going to work out?


	13. Questions

Tobirama felt sore and cold when he woke up. His entire body ached fiercely as he contemplated what he was supposed to do. He kept his eyes closed and maintained his steady breathing rate as he explored the possibilities. The sedatives had worn off, that much was obvious, so using a little bit of chakra wouldn’t hurt. His palm was already on the ground, so using his sensory abilities was effortless. As soon as he pushed out a little chakra, his eyes snapped open and he struggled to sit up.

“Don’t be a fool!” Madara’s voice hit his ears first as he was roughly pushed back down to the ground.

“Madara,” Hashirama’s weary voice was the next thing that he heard. “I believe that you should learn some bedside manners. He’s probably disoriented, confused and in a lot of pain. Try to be kind.”

“I’ve got to be hallucinating,” Tobirama croaked, slowly bringing up his arms and rubbing at his tired eyes. “There’s no way that’s big brother lecturing someone.”

He heard Madara snort. “He can’t be too bad off if he’s still being such a smart ass,” the Uchiha said.

“I’m right here,” Tobirama groaned. “You could always just ask me if I’m bad off or not.”

“Quit talking and rest,” Madara told him. His voice didn’t have the same harsh edge in it as before, and the thought actually made Tobirama smile. If Madara had actually heeded Hashirama’s instructions, he must be worried.

“I feel fine,” Tobirama insisted.

“I don’t care,” Madara told him.

Hashirama came into view a moment later with a gentle smile spread across his face. “Just relax for a few more minutes, little brother. You had a long night from the sound of it. Recover a bit more and we’ll talk all you want.”

“Where are we?” Tobirama asked stubbornly. “Can you at least tell me that?”

“I don’t know the exact location,” Hashirama admitted. “It’s raining rather hard outside, and I haven’t had the chance to look around. Judging from what Misty says, however, I think we’re around a day away from the capital, and about two days away from our home.”

Tobirama just nodded in acknowledgement, closing in eyes and wincing as his muscles nearly cramped from the hard floor underneath him.

“Are you comfortable?” Madara asked abruptly.

Tobirama’s eyes flew open at that question. He slowly turned his head to look at the older Uchiha, who was sitting next to him. His body was facing a fire that was roaring in the middle of the room, but his head was turned to look down at him. His dark eyes were filled with concern. The look caused Tobirama’s heart to pick up a bit of speed. He didn’t answer Madara, much too shocked to form words at the moment. Madara frowned slightly and brought his hands up to the jacket he was wearing. He pulled the zipper down and shrugged out of it, revealing a wide, defined set of shoulders. Tobirama pointedly looked away. It wasn’t the first time that he’d been exposed to the Uchiha’s back for a view, but it was the first time that there hadn’t been an imminent emergency distracting him.

Madara folded the jacket into a large square and got to his knees. A moment later, Tobirama felt his head being cradled by one of his large hands. He stiffened, about to force himself to move away before he saw a look on Madara’s face that he hadn’t seen before. It was a caring look; it made Tobirama feel as though all Madara wanted to do was take care of him. Tobirama just stayed still, looking up at Madara before he felt his head lower and it was laying on something a lot plusher than the floor. He inhaled deeply in relief of the small comfort and realized that the jacket smelled strongly of Madara. It smelled like the sandalwood body wash that Tobirama bought for him, and an oddly woodsy smell, almost like a faint fur tree scent. It was soothing to say the least.

He felt warm and safer than he had all week. Exhaustion was starting to hit him hard. Tobirama tried to push past it. “We need to get out of here,” he said, though his voice was very quiet. “Father will be wondering where you are, Hashirama, and Uchiha wasn’t supposed to leave the Senju compound.”

“You just relax,” Madara said to him pointedly.

“Madara’s right, Tobirama,” Hashirama said. “You just need to relax for right now. We’ll worry about everything else when you wake up again.”

Tobirama sighed and closed his eyes, drifting back off to sleep.

 

When his eyes opened again, less people were in the room. Namely, Madara was absent. “What happened to Uchiha?” Tobirama grunted. This time when he moved to sit up no one stopped him. He rubbed his eyes, relieved to find that his head felt so much clearer.

“Good to see that you finally woke up. You must have been really exhausted,” Hashirama said. His brother had been at the front of the hut, looking outside. The rain had finally stopped falling, and the sun was shining down on the forest and reflecting light inside of the hut as well. It lit up his brother’s features, and Hashirama looked horrible. His eyes were sunken in, and there were black bags underneath that were so large and dark that it looked as though he’d received two black eyes. His skin was paler than normal, and his hands had a small tremor to them.

“Look who’s talking,” Tobirama said, getting to his feet. “Did you sleep at all?”

“No,” Hashirama said. He brought his hands to his eyes and rubbed them for a moment. When Tobirama saw them again, he looked a bit more alert, but it wasn’t enough to cut off Tobirama’s concerns. “I was keeping watch overnight. It’s around noon now, so I’m pretty tired. It’s alright, though, now that you’re awake, we can leave.”

“You never answered my first question,” Tobirama said. “Where’s Uchiha?”

“He heard a noise a few minutes ago and went to check it out,” Hashirama reported. “I told him that I’d have no problem looking, but he insisted that I stay here with you.”

“Let’s go and find him,” Tobirama suggested. “Uchiha should be back by now if there wasn’t anything out there.”

There was no need, it turned out. He heard Madara’s cursing voice soon enough, and snapped his head toward the noise. It was coming from behind the hut. Tobirama and Hashirama both quickly dashed out, running around the small building and skidding to a stop at the sight of the _firesome_ Uchiha.

He was scowling, still only clad in pajama pants while he held a struggling man in a headlock. “Maybe you can get this idiot to talk, Senju,” Madara told Hashirama. “He won’t answer me.”

“No problem,” Hashirama said as Madara flung the man toward him. Hashirama made a hand sign and wood shot out of the ground, trapping everything but the man’s head and neck. He was pleading and crying out, but no one listened to him. Tobirama took a good look at him and sighed. The man had a bald head and dark, beady eyes sunken into a face with a too-long nose. He vaguely remembered that face; he thought that his name was Onishi. “Why don’t you go back inside with Tobirama?” he suggested.

Tobirama wanted to argue, but Madara had a nearly identically firm look on his face as Hashirama. The Uchiha grabbed Tobirama’s arm and turned him around. “Come on, Senju. Let’s go.” Tobirama found that he didn’t put up any fight at all as Madara pushed and directed him toward the hut.

Once they were inside, Madara walked over and grabbed the jacket that Tobirama was using as a pillow. He slid it back over his shoulders and zipped it up. He, then, turned and looked at Misty and the other summons. “Hashirama is asking someone that I caught in the forest a few questions. I think you three might be able to intimidate him into cooperating a bit more easily. Would you mind going and giving him a hand?”

“Not at all,” Misty replied. She and the other two leopards walked out of the hut without so much as a look in their direction.

“What did you do to get Misty so friendly with you?” Tobirama asked Madara as he sat down next to the fire. Outside was still chilly, and his skin was icy. He looked down and noticed for the first time why. “Um… where are my clothes?”

“By the fire,” Madara replied. “You were soaked when we got here, and your body temperature was dangerously low. We figured that it’d be a good idea to put them near the fire to dry.”

Tobirama grimaced at that, but figured that they had at least let him keep his modesty. His boxers were dry and sitting comfortably around his waist.

“I don’t know why Misty is so nice to me,” Madara replied to his first question. “I figured that she’d at least threaten to rip my throat out since I’m an Uchiha and all, but she hasn’t.” Silence filled the room for a few more moments before Madara sighed and closed his eyes. “Did you know that man out there? You looked like you recognized him.”

Tobirama nodded his head. “He was a part of the group that was escorting the merchant to the capital.”

Madara stiffened to get up. “We need to tell Hashirama that he’s not—”

“No,” Tobirama said quietly. “He’s one of the ones responsible for how you found me….” He trailed off, looking down at the ground as anger flared in his chest. “Actually, he’s not. The entire situation was my fault and my own stupidity. I acted like an idiot and let myself be sedated. I have no one else to blame. You have no one else to blame that you’re stuck out here trying to help my sorry ass recover before I can even teleport back with my leopards.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” Madara said quietly. “We all make mistakes.” Tobirama saw his fists clench together. “We all make extremely stupid mistakes and sometimes they end horribly.” Suddenly, Tobirama felt as though they weren’t talking about what happened to him.

“Uchiha—”

“Just shut up for a second,” Madara sighed. He looked uncomfortable and agitated, and Tobirama felt concern starting to wriggle around in his gut. “I…I’m not good with this…I can’t remember the last time I…I….”

“You what?” Tobirama asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know the last time that I apologized,” Madara finally said. His eyes were roaming over the entire hut, darting everywhere but to the spot that Tobirama was sitting. “The morning that you left, I was totally out of line. If you don’t trust me anymore after that, I’d totally understand. Hell, at this point, I wouldn’t trust me either. I don’t deserve your kindness, and I don’t understand why you’re willing to offer it to me, but thank you anyway.”

 

 

Much to Madara’s surprise, getting those words out of his mouth hadn’t been as bad as he thought that it would be. He looked up at Tobirama, and saw that the man had actual surprise on his face. It was an expression that Madara had never seen before and doubted that he would ever see again. What did it take to catch this specific Senju off guard…other than receiving a heartfelt apology from an Uchiha?

Madara’s eyes widened as the expression changed to a small smile. It was just a little curve of one side of his lips, but it was definitely there. He’d…he’d made Tobirama _smile_. Madara couldn’t stop his own smile from curving on his face at that accomplishment. He didn’t know why it made him so happy, but he was alright with that.

Tobirama stood up abruptly and walked to the other side of the fire. Madara watched him lean down and grab his shirt. As he slid it over his head, Madara told himself that he wasn’t upset by all of the skin and muscle that was being covered up. He told himself rather firmly that he hadn’t been admiring it the entire time Tobirama had been walking around with only boxers on.

 _Tobirama is attractive,_ Madara admitted, _but so are many shinobi._ Madara mentally rolled his eyes at himself. It had been too long, and his hormones were just out of wack from his prolonged celibacy. He would get over it in a little while. He and Tobirama were working on becoming friendly with one another. There was no way that he would ever be intimate with him. He didn’t have such relations with friends, especially not Senjus. He grimaced at the thought of being intimate with Hashirama; it was almost enough to make him nauseous, and Hashirama was just as handsome as Tobirama. He mentally nodded; that bit of logic settled everything.

Pushing those stupid and irrelevant thoughts out of his mind, he looked back at Tobirama and saw that he had on his black shirt and pants. He made no move to put on his armor. He simply walked back over to his spot and took a seat.

“You said that man was with a group earlier,” Madara observed, “then you said that the man was one of the ones responsible for your injuries. What happened?”

Tobirama’s face went blank. “I was a fool,” he said shortly. “I was too easily lulled into a sense of security because the man reminded me of my older brother. I…there is no excuse for what happened. I’ll be fine and suffer the consequences. You have no reason to take pity on me, Uchiha.”

“You know that kindness is usually a two-way street, right?” Madara asked. “Hashirama said that you were acting strange before you left out last week. I don’t think that it’s a coincidence that you started acting funny the same day that I flipped out on you. If you went on a mission without your head in the right place, then it’s my fault as well. I feel as though I need to know exactly what I caused. I’m not taking pity on you, Senju. You’re the last person that needs pity. I’m trying to take some responsibility for my part in what happened to you.”

“I’m a shinobi,” Tobirama said stiffly. “Emotions are not important to me. Your episode that morning might have affected me, but that’s my fault as well. It shouldn’t have been able to emotionally compromise me.”

“You’re human!” Madara snapped at him, his patience wearing thin. “Humans have feelings; it’s one of the things that makes us human! You know as well as I do that being a true shinobi is impossible and total bullshit. _Everyone_ has emotions, whether it’s pride, sadness, anger, happiness, love, rage and so many more. Do you really expect me to let you take all of the blame for this one just because you weren’t able to cancel out all of your emotions? I slammed you against a wall, tried to choke you, and held a kunai to your face! If you try and tell me that it shouldn’t have shaken you up and made you upset, then you’re a bigger fool than I thought!”

Tobirama was silent, just looking down at his lap as Madara spoke to him. His hands were on his knees, squeezing with a visible tightness.

“If the ordeal made you upset, and it’s hard for you to talk about for right now, then don’t worry about it,” Madara said, realizing that he might be pushing a bit too far. He had obviously been in a vulnerable position with the sedatives in his system. It had probably been traumatic at the very least.

“They laced my food with a tasteless sedative,” Tobirama said quietly after a few moments, still not looking up at Madara. “As soon as it hit, they kicked me around, sending me flying on to the ground where they kicked me more. After they finished with that, I was drug to the edge of the clearing…” he was silent for a few moments, as though trying to gather himself. “I was tied to a tree, and the leader of the group of thugs that Watanabe had hired slit the merchant’s throat right in front of me…then he said that he was going to brush up on his ninja skills and used me as target practice for shuriken.”

Madara was silent. His body had flared with rage. He felt his sharingan activate and the small pull on his chakra from it, not that it mattered. “Where are they?” Madara heard himself growl as he got to his feet. When Tobirama didn’t answer quick enough, he asked again. “Damnit, Senju! Where are they?”

“They’re all dead,” he muttered. “I must have missed one, is all.”

Madara felt a bit better about that, but another part of him felt as though it was too bad that he hadn’t been the one to send them to hell. He hated those kinds of people. He couldn’t stand the thugs that deceived people and made them feel helpless while they harmed and then eventually killed them. Sure, shinobi killed people all of the time; it was basically their entire job description, but they didn’t make anyone suffer. They never tied people up and made their last moments full of torture, even if there were some that he felt deserved it.

Madara swallowed down his anger. Tobirama didn’t need that right now; he was pissed enough for the both of them, that much was very obvious. He couldn’t stop the fiery rage that was pointed at himself, however. This really was his fault, even if Tobirama didn’t see it that way.

“We all make mistakes, Senju,” Madara murmured after a few moments. “You’re human, even if you try and act like you’re not. Just don’t make one like this again; the next time, the thugs might not get so cocky, and it’ll cost you your life.”

“Careful, Madara,” Tobirama muttered. “You keep that up, and I might start thinking that you care about me.”

Madara opened his mouth to argue against that, but another realization came to his head. It was the first time that Tobirama had ever addressed him by his given name.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you like it! What do you all think about the blatant denial and small step forward in the relationship!? We have finally made it to a semi-first name basis!!!
> 
> Also, I realized that I totally lied when I told Raisa+Islam that this story was going to be somewhere in the 30,000-50,000 range if that wasn't already painfully obvious. In all honesty, I never meant for this story to be this long, but it just got away from me. I'm not entirely sure how long it's going to be, but we still have a good ways to go before everything that I planned out is in the storyline. I hope you guys are willing to be along for the ride because I'm having so much fun writing this!


	14. Panic

Tobirama looked up at Madara and saw that the man had a strange expression on his face. It was something between uncertainty, discomfort and something else that Tobirama couldn’t quite pinpoint, though it might be embarrassment. He raised an eyebrow at him questioningly, and Madara’s cheeks changed to a rather lovely shade of red. No…that look right there was embarrassment. Tobirama mentally shrugged, it was probably nothing at all. Madara was a strange character sometimes. It would probably take quite a while before he would learn all of his facial expressions and which one went to which quirk.

“Well,” Hashirama’s exhausted voice sounded from the doorway. Tobirama looked up and saw his brother stumbling inside alone. “He told me just about everything, though I’m praying that he was lying about most of it. From what I gathered, however, he’s alone, and the rest of his friends are dead, courtesy of a huge body of water appearing out of nowhere and drowning them.” He pointed at Tobirama and said, “That’s definitely your handiwork.”

Tobirama nodded in confirmation. Hashirama sighed and looked at Tobirama with an almost pitying look. “I’ll go with you to father when you do your report of your job.”

“No,” Tobirama protested abruptly. “You need to spend time with your bride-to-be. I’ll be fine talking to father alone.” He really wouldn’t be, but he’d be a lot better of with no one seeing him get chewed and degraded for it all. If he had to hear one more time about how Hashirama was better than him, his ego might just completely disappear. There was no way that it would ever come back if Hashirama was present for the comparison. The apologetic looks and the pity were things that he didn’t need any more of.

“I’ll be leaving out tomorrow to escort Mito back to the Land of Whirlpools. I’m sure that she can spare me a few minutes. We’ll be together nonstop for a couple of days starting then. You don’t need to go and see him alone. This wasn’t your fault.”

“It was my fault,” Tobirama shot back, “and we’re not discussing it. I’m going to go and give my report, and you’re going to stay out of it. Do not interfere, Hashirama. I’m an adult, and I don’t need you to protect me from my father.”

“Your father is an asshole,” Madara muttered. “I think that the entire world needs protection from the likes of him.”

“You act like yours is much better,” Tobirama snapped. It wasn’t as though he didn’t agree with the Uchiha. Butsuma Senju wasn’t a very kind man to anyone, but Tajima Uchiha was pretty large asshole as well. It was like the pot calling the kettle black.

“He’s not,” Madara said uncaringly. “Right now, however, the world is protected from him. He’s locked up.”

Both Hashirama and Tobirama looked around, almost wistfully. “This older generation is what’s wrong with this entire world right now. They’re too based off hate,” Hashirama agreed. “I’d never wish anything upon my father. He gave me life as much as my mother did, but his ways are wrong, and he won’t acknowledge that.”

Tobirama sighed as he got to his feet. He slowly walked over and grabbed his armor, pulling back onto his body with practiced ease, getting the fit just right. “I agree with you,” Tobirama told them both, “that doesn’t change anything, though. He’s the rightful leader of the Senju and will remain that way until he dies, and you take over, Hashirama. Until then, we just need to keep quiet about all of this. I’d rather we not all get charged with treason.”

Hashirama nodded and Madara pushed himself to his feet. “What happened to our prisoner?” Madara questioned.

“He’s dead,” Hashirama said. His voice was steady, but purposefully so. “He won’t be hurting anyone ever again. Misty and the others were taking care of the body when I left them. They should be ready to head out at any time.”

As if talking about them had summoned them forward, the three leopards strutted into the hut moments later. “We’re ready to head out, Misty,” Tobirama said. He bowed toward her, “Thank you for saving my life.”

“You’re just like one of my own cubs, Tobirama,” Misty said. “I will do what I can to ensure your safety and happiness.”

Tobirama quirked his lips into a small smile and thanked her for her kind words.

“Alright, boys,” Misty said, laying down on the floor of the hut. “Get on.” She turned to her own cubs, Leo and Theo. “You two get back home. I know that your chakra has to be nearly diminished from being out so long.”

They both nodded to her and were gone with a low _pop_. Madara slowly turned toward Tobirama and looked at him with a bit of concern. “Are you sure that you’re up for making this trip? You’re still not at one hundred percent, and it’s kind of rough.”

“I’ll be fine,” Tobirama assured him. He jumped up and landed softly on Misty’s back, behind Hashirama, who was already settled on. Tobirama heard Madara sigh and jump on behind him. He almost jumped as he felt Madara’s arms wrap around his waist, but he forced himself to relax before he showed any outside signs of being startled. Madara was startlingly warm, and reasonably comfortable. It was a nice enough sensation, he supposed.

“Hold on to each other tightly,” Misty commanded. Tobirama complied, and wrapped his arms more securely around Hashirama and felt Madara do the same to him. He felt Madara’s face bury itself in between his shoulder blades just as he did the same to Hashirama. He closed his eyes just as he felt Misty begin to move.

He felt the familiar overwhelming sensation of moving in what he imagined a vacuum would be. The breath was ripped out of him briefly before it was all over.

“I’m never doing this again,” Madara groaned, his face still buried into Tobirama’s back. The vibrations felt strange, but not uncomfortable. “This mode of transportation is horrible!”

Tobirama felt himself smirk as he let go of his older brother. Madara slowly removed his arms from around Tobirama, and the younger Senju turned around to look at the elder Uchiha. “Are you motion sick?”

Madara scowled at him, “Don’t be ridiculous, Senju, I don’t get sick off of something so stupid.” The slightly green tint to his face didn’t match that statement. Tobirama felt the urge to laugh, but repressed it with some effort. He had a feeling that Madara wouldn’t take too kindly to that.

“Alright,” Tobirama said. He pushed himself off Misty and landed on the ground softly. He was standing in the middle of his small living room, looking around. He inhaled deeply and slowly let his breath out, savoring the scent. It felt so good to be home. “Thank you so much for rescuing me, Misty,” Tobirama repeated his gratefulness once again, and he was certain that Misty would be smiling at him if it were possible.

“I’m going to need to be going,” Misty said after she finished her staring contest with him. “I shall see you later, Tobirama.” She turned and looked at both Hashirama and Madara, who were both sitting on the couch, looking positively exhausted. Apparently, he’d been the only one to sleep the night before. “I thank you both for caring so deeply for Tobirama.”

Before either man could reply, Misty was gone in a puff of smoke.

Tobirama sighed and closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. He still felt tired and fatigued, but he figured that was just the effect of being gone and barely sleeping for a week on top of the incident from the previous night. “Come on, Hashirama,” Tobirama said before he could convince himself to just wait to go and speak with his father. It needed to be done as soon as possible, if only so that he could get it over with. “We should probably head up to the Senju house. I need to talk to father, and you should go and get some sleep before you see Mito. You have quite a journey ahead of you tomorrow.”

His brother sighed and stood up. Madara stayed where he was, looking at both of them with tired eyes.

“Madara,” Tobirama said. The Uchiha turned to look directly at Tobirama. “You need to go and get to bed as well. You look awful, and I don’t need you straining yourself on account of me. I don’t want you to cook or clean at all. Just go to sleep.”

“You’ve been eating ration bars this entire week,” Madara protested almost immediately as he stood up. “You should have something proper to eat at least.”

“I’ll grab something from the main house,” Tobirama said, fighting back a smile at his concern; it was actually very touching. “I’ll pick up enough for both of us to eat later on. You just go to bed.”

“You should get back here soon too,” Madara said quietly. “You’re still exhausted yourself. You need more rest.”

“I will,” Tobirama promised. The Uchiha was genuinely worried about him. It made him happier than it should.

“I’m so happy that you two are getting along,” Hashirama said as he and Tobirama made their way to the door. “This is how everything should be. You’re supposed to act like this towards one another!”

“Quit being stupid,” Tobirama snapped at him, hating it when Hashirama blurted out sappy things. It was embarrassing. “Let’s just go.”

Hashirama immediately started pouting, but followed Tobirama out of the door anyway.

 

It took almost no time at all to reach the main house. Tobirama and Hashirama both slowly walked up the stairs. His older brother looked at him with furrowed brows, no longer pouting but still visibly worried. “Are you sure that you don’t want me to come with you, Tobi? I feel like it might be the wiser choice.”

Hashirama was probably correct, but that didn’t mean much anyway. “You stay out of this,” Tobirama said. “I was the one that made the mistake, and I will face the consequences for it myself. Do not interfere.”

“As you wish,” Hashirama said, still looking skeptical. He snatched Tobirama forward and crushed him into a tight hug. “Don’t be so hard on yourself, little brother. We all make mistakes, and you’re no different.”

Tobirama felt too stressed to put up with the affection, and pushed Hashirama away quickly. “Go and get some sleep before you have to see your fiancé, Hashirama.”

His brother nodded and walked down the hallway, disappearing inside of his room. When the door shut, Tobirama allowed himself to slump and give out a low sigh. This meeting was not going to be fun at all. Despite wanting to do anything other than face his father, he walked forward and passed all of the bedrooms. He walked down until he was at the dead end of the hallway, where a lone door was sitting on the back wall. Straightening up, he reached out and knocked three times.

“Come in,” his father’s muffled voice hit his ears.

Tobirama opened the door and was met with the sight of a tired and haggard looking father. A tired Butsuma was an irritable Butsuma. Tobirama figured that he’d picked the worst possible time to have a chat with his dad.

“Tobirama,” Butsuma said, frowning in surprise. “You’re back at least three days early. This is efficient, even for you.”

Tobirama said nothing as he walked inside and shut the door.

“I’m guessing that you’re here to give your report,” Butsuma said.

“I am, sir,” Tobirama agreed. “I haven’t gotten it written down yet, but I believe that you’ll want to hear about it before then.”

“Hear about what?” Butsuma asked. His eyebrows were furrowed now, making him resemble Hashirama, if only slightly.

Tobirama stiffened a bit and fought to keep eye-contact with his father as he began speaking. “The mission was a failure due to a lapse in my judgement. I was sedated and the man that I was supposed to protect was killed.”

Butsuma was silent for a few moments. His face was blank, as though he wasn’t comprehending what Tobirama was saying. The stretch of silence was nearly endless, and Tobirama was starting to feel more and more uneasy by the second. He didn’t feel much better from the tone of his father’s voice when the quiet was finally broken. “You failed.” Butsuma said quietly.

Tobirama nodded. “Yes, sir.”

_SLAM!_

Tobirama was unable to hide his flinch at the loud noise. Butsuma’s hands had hit so hard against his desk that the wood cracked as he stood up. “You lost us a fortune and slandered our name! How the hell did you manage to fuck up? All you had to do was escort that bald bastard to the capital! Kawarama could have done it better than you while he was still alive as a child!”

“Well,” Tobirama said, “Kawarama is dead because—”

Butsuma jumped over the desk and backhanded Tobirama hard enough to make him lose balance and stumble backward a couple of feet before landing on his back on the floor. “Don’t you _dare_ mouth off to me!” Butsuma snarled as he stood over him. “You’re worthless to this clan and to me if you can’t complete the missions that I send you out on. You’re supposed to give your life for the objective, Tobirama, and you know that! It’s obvious that you didn’t give it everything that you could have if you’re still able to stand here. You have no right to even be in my presence right now! Get out of my sight before you make me do something that I might regret later on.”

His head was spinning as he scrambled to his feet. He bowed hurriedly to Butsuma, muttering a quick, “Yes, father,” before he turned around and rushed out.

“I want that report in by tomorrow morning so that I can properly assess what your punishment is going to be!” Butsuma called before he could fully close the door.

“Yes, father,” Tobirama said yet again.

Tobirama just sighed as an uncomfortable feeling began squirming in his gut. He just wanted to go home. It was probably a better idea to stay in his room for a little while and compose himself, but he was already sick of seeing this house, even if he had only just gotten there. He looked down at his hand and saw that it was trembling. He grimaced as he realized that his heart rate was a bit faster than normal. He really needed to calm down, or the result was going to be very unpleasant.

 

 

Madara knew that Tobirama had told him to go and lay down, but he couldn’t just sit around and do nothing at all. He figured that making a few things for breakfast would be a nice treat for both him and Tobirama. He figured that the younger Senju would bitch at him for it, but it would be while he was scarfing down the food. Madara was starting to recognize his quirks, if nothing else. He felt a small smile tugging at his lips at the thought of it as he reached up into the cupboard and pulled down two plates.

Just as he was finishing sliding the rest of the scrambled eggs on to his own plate, he heard the door slam. He frowned. It had been maybe fifteen minutes since Tobirama and Hashirama left. He knew that it would take nearly no time at all to travel to and from the main Senju house for a shinobi, but he still hadn’t expected him back for at least another half an hour. He should have ordered to go and get examined by their doctor at the very least.

Shrugging, he slowly walked out of the kitchen and saw that Tobirama was standing in front of the front door. The lights were dimmed in the room, and there was an overcast outside, so it was hard to see much, but Madara swore he looked even paler than normal. He was shaking.

“Senju,” Madara said uncertainly, taking another couple of steps closer to him. “Senju, what’s going on?”

He heard quiet gasping breaths, and his heart nearly stopped as dread twisted in his stomach. He knew what he was seeing. Izuna had gone through a few of those when they were younger after the deaths of their brothers, and he’d had a couple himself after harsh battles. He immediately rushed to Tobirama, who flinched and backed away from him when he got too close.

Madara looked and saw that his eyes were wide, but despite the fact that he was looking straight at Madara, it was almost as though Tobirama wasn’t seeing him at all. He slowly reached out to grab Tobirama, and as soon as he touched the other man’s shoulder, Tobirama jumped and slapped his hand away. Alarmed, Madara said, “Sen—”

“Don’t touch me!” Tobirama shouted.

The shaking was steadily getting worse. His knees were knocking and Madara was afraid that he was going to collapse. He started curling into himself, and Madara saw that he was gasping for breath.

“Tobirama!” Madara said loudly. “Tobirama, listen to me. You need to calm down. It’s me, Madara, let me help you!”

Tobirama gave him no indication that he’d heard him at all, but he didn’t fight when Madara grabbed his shoulder again. He wrapped his arm around Tobirama’s back and moved to make him stand a bit straighter. He wasn’t cooperating at first, but eventually he allowed it and straightened slightly. He was still gasping for breath, and one of his hands shot up and grabbed for his neck. His eyes were bloodshot, much to Madara’s surprise, and it looked as though he was about to start crying at any time.

He looked to be past the point of no return, much to Madara’s dismay. “Come on,” Madara said gently, and started pulling and pushing on him, leading him to the couch. As soon as they got there, he pushed Tobirama on to the sofa and sat down next to him. He was shaking worse than ever, and Madara saw the first tear slip down his cheek. After that, it was like a torrent; the sobs came, and he was nearly hysterical.

This had to be the most surreal thing that Madara had ever witnessed. Tobirama shaking, crying, hyperventilating, and sobbing as though he was in pure agony. He’d never seen the man as anything other than composed or angry. He’d never seen him upset, not sober at least, and it had never been this bad at all. He was at a loss for words as he just watched him fall apart.

_Pull yourself together,_ Madara’s conscience snapped at him. _He needs you right now!_ Unsure of what else to do, Madara, grabbed Tobirama’s face in both hands and turned it so that he was looking Madara in the eyes. His red ones looked frightened for lack of a better word, and that expression alone struck a chord deep within him and caused his chest to ache.

“Listen to me,” Madara said firmly. His voice was soft, but had enough of a commanding edge to it, that Tobirama would hopefully at least try and pay attention. “You’re alright. Nothing’s going to hurt you. You’re safe.” Tobirama started shaking even harder, and his sobs got even louder, but he never looked away from Madara’s eyes. “I’m not going to let anything hurt you, Tobirama. It’s all going to be completely alright.”

The shaking and the sobs didn’t stop, but Tobirama threw himself at Madara, burying his face into his chest as he continued crying. Madara froze, looking down with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. Izuna did the same thing, but he had never expected Tobirama to try. He felt Tobirama gripping on to the fabric of his jacket almost desperately, and Madara complied, wrapping his arms around him firmly. Almost absently, he placed one of his palms on the back of Tobirama’s head and began carding his fingers though the snowy white strands. It was tangled into knots, but it was still surprisingly soft.

As they were sitting there, Madara remembered something that Hashirama had offhandedly mentioned during their time together in the house. _Tobirama is a big softie on the inside, believe it or not. He likes being comforted, but will only accept it if it’s not obvious that’s what you’re trying to do. One of the best ways to get him to relax, actually, is playing with his hair and massaging his scalp. You can imagine how hard it was to act like you were only coincidentally doing that._

He immediately allowed his hand to move deeper into Tobirama’s hair and began rubbing the pads of his fingers into Tobirama’s scalp. Tobirama buried his face even deeper into Madara’s chest as he cried, but it felt as though it wasn’t as dramatic as it was before.

“It’s going to be alright,” Madara murmured to him. He leaned back so that his side was pressed firmly into the arm of the couch and brought Tobirama with him. “It’s only a panic attack, Tobirama. You’re going to be alright. Just try and breathe and relax yourself.” He allowed the other hand, which was resting on Tobirama’s back to move to the side and unclasp his armor from one end. He slid his hand through the opening that it created and began rubbing up and down on his back.

“I’m sorry,” Tobirama whimpered. Madara’s eyes widened at that, unsure if he’d actually heard correctly. It was hard to be sure with how muffled his voice was.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m sorry; I’m so fucking sorry! I’m so stupid and—”

Madara removed his hands from Tobirama and grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back a bit so that he could look at him. “You have nothing to be sorry for,” Madara told him calmly. “Don’t apologize. You’re not stupid; you’re a genius. Just calm yourself and start thinking straight. I’m not angry nor am I upset. I don’t want to hear you apologize because you have no one at all to apologize to. The only thing that matters is that you’re safe.”

Madara looked at Tobirama, hoping to gage some sort of reaction, and he saw a bit of the tenseness on his face relax. He had to fight to keep an encouraging expression on his own face when he saw a bit of swelling and darkness on Tobirama’s cheek. Something told him that the Senju’s conversation with his father hadn’t went very well. Anger started burning in his chest again, but he managed to keep it on the inside. Showing Tobirama that he was upset would help nothing at all.

Tobirama’s breathing was beginning to turn back to an almost normal pace, and Madara smiled at him encouragingly. “Don’t be embarrassed by this or apologize,” Madara told him as he pulled Tobirama back against him and began running his fingers through the younger man’s hair again, hoping to help speed along the attack’s process and get it over with even quicker. “Things like this happen; it’s not something that you can help. I’ve had a couple of them myself, and Izuna used to get them frequently.” He wanted to go ahead and get that out in the air. He could only imagine how a man like Tobirama would react once he had proper control of himself again.

Tobirama stopped shaking altogether within a few minutes, and it was as though all of the energy completely left him as he slumped against Madara, who almost thought that he was asleep, if it wasn’t for the fact that he quietly spoke a few moments later. “Thank you,” Tobirama muttered. “This hasn’t happened to me in a long time. I…I wasn’t expecting another one.”

“I don’t think that they’re something that you can expect,” Madara said.

“Can…can we just pretend like this never happened?” Tobirama questioned.

“Yeah,” Madara replied. “Just relax for a little while and then we can pretend like nothing happened at all.”

Almost absentmindedly, Madara began moving his hands though Tobirama’s hair again, and he swore that the younger Senju snuggled a bit closer to him and went even more limp. “That feels really good.”

Madara smiled. Tobirama really was cute when he wanted to be. “I’m glad,” he said. “Now be quiet and relax.”

Much to his surprise, he heard Tobirama’s breathing even out moments later as the man fell asleep. Madara’s own eyes felt heavy. He was warm, and felt more comfortable than he had in weeks. He closed his eyes, promising himself that he would wake Tobirama and get them both into their beds in just a few minutes. Maybe thirty seconds later, he was asleep as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I love fluff, it's just so...fluffy! I also enjoy random angst as well, always followed by a healthy dose of FLUFF! I hope that you enjoyed this chapter. What do you think of Tobirama's father?


	15. A Test of Competence

When Madara woke up, he felt cold. He blearily looked around the living room and saw that the sun was considerably lower in the sky than it had been when he’d fallen asleep. He heard the sound of glasses clinking together from the kitchen and pushed himself to his feet to go and investigate. He winced as the muscles protested in his back, obviously not appreciating him being in such an uncomfortable position for so long.

He walked into the kitchen, grimacing from the dull ache in his back and stopped to watch Tobirama. He was no longer in his mission gear and was now wearing a blue kimono shirt and pants, looking decidedly comfortable. He was hovering over the sink and scrubbing away at dishes.

“You should be resting,” Madara said as he walked further inside.

“I’ve had enough rest,” Tobirama replied, not even looking over his shoulder. He placed a plate on the dish rack to dry and plunged his hands back into the soapy water. “You’re the one who needs his rest. The last time I checked, you’re the one that had hardly any sleep at all last night.”

“I’m not that one that was injured,” Madara shot back. He walked to the sink and stood next to Tobirama. He reached out into the water and grabbed the other man’s wrist in a firm hold. Tobirama stilled at that and turned to look at Madara with a raised eyebrow. “We’re trained to go days without any real sleep. That’s when we’re healthy, however. We’ve also been trained to do what is necessary to keep ourselves as healthy as possible should disaster strike.”

“I feel fine,” Tobirama told him. “I feel fine, and I feel well rested. There’s no point in me laying down right now. I’d never sleep, and I’d just be awake thinking about things. I’m better off moving around and doing something to keep myself preoccupied.” Madara had a feeling that he knew why. Thinking too much on things would lead to another bout of major stress, and then it was another panic attack.

“Let me get the dishes at the very least,” Madara said. “I’m the one that made this mess.”

“I was intended to eat it,” Tobirama said. “I feel as though that means that I should be the one doing the dishes.”

“No,” Madara argued. “I intended for you to relax and sit. Why don’t you do that, and I’ll finish these. Afterward, I’ll cook something light up and make us some tea.”

Tobirama frowned and turned more fully toward Madara, bending his arm since Madara refused to let it go. He opened his mouth to say something, but Madara didn’t pay attention to that. He was busy studying the mark on his cheek. It looked more defined now. It was a nasty black and blue color with quite a bit of swelling causing it to be even more noticeable. Without even thinking about it, he reached up and put his hand on Tobirama’s face, just underneath the mark and turned him so that he could see it in a better light. Tobirama cut himself off from whatever it was that he’d been saying and just remained silent.

“Your father did this,” Madara murmured. “I’m guessing that he didn’t like your news about the mission.”

Tobirama said nothing all over again as Madara continued looking it over. Rage was an all-consuming force to an Uchiha, so he had to fight it down before it got out of control.

“It’s not a big deal,” Tobirama said quietly. Madara felt Tobirama’s own hand reach up and clasp over his. “It doesn’t hurt at all. He was in a bad mood, and I just went in there at the wrong time of day. He didn’t take it well, but it’s alright. I did fail my mission after all; I expected him to take it badly.”

This was so not alright. This was freaking ridiculous. How the hell was Tobirama speaking so calmly about all of this? His father had slapped him over a mission, or something related to it at the very least, because he was angry about the failure. Tobirama had almost _died_ not twelve hours before, and his father had hit him for it. Why was he trying to assure Madara that this was okay? It was almost as though it was a normal occurrence.

Madara’s eye twitched at that thought. He wrenched Tobirama’s arm out of the water with only a bit of difficulty and removed his hand from Tobirama’s cheek to point at the kitchen table. “Sit down. Now.”

“What makes you think that you can tell me what to do?” Tobirama challenged, his red eyes narrowing.

“Well,” Madara snapped at him, “some people might just be a bit concerned about their foolish comrade.” He pulled Tobirama toward the table, pleased to see that there was no fight in him when he did so. He pulled the chair back and pushed him on to it. He grabbed the chair adjacent to Tobirama and pulled it out so that he could sit as well. “There’s something that you need to know about the Uchiha. It’s that when we do something, it’s never halfway. You’re the one that was so insistent that we become friends, just remember that when this starts to annoy you. I’m not going to be your friend when it’s just convenient. I’m going to care about you and be concerned for you all of the time. Our emotions are intense. It’s what allows us to awaken our ocular jutsu.”

“Why are you saying this now?” Tobirama asked him, his eyebrows drawing together.

“Because,” Madara said. “It’s pissing me off that you’re acting as though your father backhanding you over something like a failed mission is a normal occurrence, and I don’t want you to bother asking yourself why I care.” Madara leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table and said, “If I were in any other position than I were right now, and the lives of my clan weren’t in danger, I’d go to that bastard and tell and show him exactly what I think of him.”

Madara saw the uncertain look in Tobirama’s eyes and sighed. “Look, just sit there and don’t move. You just got back from a mission and obviously someone has to take care of you. Let me do this so I can feel a bit better about myself, alright?”

They sat there for a few moments, just looking at one another before Tobirama finally nodded and looked away. “I’m just going to grab some paper to do my report, alright? I have to have it in by tomorrow morning, so it needs to be done. I’ll let you do whatever it is you feel necessary other than that. Does that sound fair enough?”

Butsuma should have given Tobirama at least enough time to recuperate before demanding that it be put in. Of course, from the brevity of the meeting, Madara figured that Butsuma didn’t even know what happened on the mission at all.

“Very well,” Madara said as he pushed himself to his feet and walked to the sink. “Is there anything specific that you would like for dinner?”

“I’ll take anything with fish,” Tobirama replied.

Madara rolled his eyes at that request. He should have known that answer.

 

The rest of the day went by in an almost companionable silence between the two. Tobirama finished his report within an hour and went back to rest on the couch. Madara had showered and gotten some clean pajamas on, reclining on the chair as he waited for the timer to go off, signaling that the fish would be finished. He allowed his eyes to roam toward Tobirama, who was sitting on the couch with a clipboard in his hand. There was a scroll pressed against the hard wood, and he was brushing something onto the parchment.

Just as he was about to look away again, Tobirama sighed and tossed the scroll and the clipboard aside. He reached forward and placed the brush on a towel that was sitting on the table. The younger man rubbed his temples as his eyes screwed shut.

“Something wrong?” Madara questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Tobirama opened his eyes and slowly lowered his hands as he turned to look at Madara. The younger man’s face blanked instantly. “Nothing,” he said after a few moments.

Madara’s eyebrow raised even higher at the sound of his denial and he felt the corners of his lips quirk slightly. “Really?” he asked disbelievingly. “It looks like you just threw a mini temper tantrum, but nothing’s wrong?”

“You would know all about temper tantrums,” Tobirama shot back, his eyebrows furrowing together if only slightly. It was enough, however, to convey his annoyance.

Madara’s grin was impossible to keep off his face any longer. He felt it curl onto his lips as he looked at the younger man. “I might, but if that’s the case, then I can definitely tell that’s what you’re throwing now, Senju. You want to talk about it?”

Tobirama scowled at him, but the glare eventually softened until he was only a small, confused frown. “I’m not used to having this many problems with developing a new jutsu,” he admitted quietly. “The shadow clone jutsu was almost effortless, and the flying thunder god technique only gave me a little trouble. This, however…I don’t get what I’m doing wrong.”

While Madara was obviously gifted in using ninjutsu, his favorite was taijutsu. He enjoyed hand-to-hand combat more than any other fighting style, so he’d never really bothered to attempt to create his own jutsu. It had seemed to be unimportant and a waste of time when he’d likely never need to use it. He had a feeling that Tobirama didn’t really create them out of need for battle, either, the man struck him as a bit too curious. He seemed to be desperate to find an answer for nearly everything.

“I don’t think I’d be of much help in that area,” Madara said after a few moments. “I’m not really all that fond of very many jutsu. Taijutsu is my favorite because you can clearly gage your limits from the very beginning. With any sort of ninjutsu, you’re always guessing how much chakra it’s going to take because you have to give exactly what needs to be given in order for the result to be what you’re expecting.”

Tobirama nodded slowly, “I can see what you mean. It’s very frustrating, being unsure of what to put into a jutsu. I know what I’m trying to achieve, but I can’t figure out what I’m not giving it in order to….” He trailed off, his eyes wide and his mouth opened. Madara saw his lips quirk up slightly right before he jumped to his feet. “That’s it!” he exclaimed, looking over at Madara. “That’s exactly it!”

Madara blinked uncomprehendingly. “What’s what?” Madara questioned.

“You have to give something to get it back,” Tobirama said. “That means to get a life, I have to give one!”

Madara was unsure of what Tobirama was talking about, but he didn’t like the sound of it at all. “Exactly what kind of jutsu are you working on? It doesn’t sound very ethical.”

“You’re starting to sound like Hashirama now,” Tobirama informed Madara impatiently. “It’s not anything of concern.”

“Really?” Madara questioned. “Then what is it for?”

“It’s for protection,” Tobirama said after a few moments. “It’s for protection and potential psychological warfare, not to mention intelligence.”

Madara frowned. There were a lot of jutsu that were for all of those, but this one didn’t sound very good. He sighed after a moment. Tobirama had already had an awful day, and he didn’t want to be the person to add to it. “Very well,” Madara conceded. “If you don’t want to tell me about it, you don’t have to. Just…don’t go around killing people for the sake of it, alright?”

“I wasn’t intending to,” Tobirama informed him. “It’s not something that I’d use lightly, and I don’t plan on passing it on to anyone else without restrictions. No one knows about it. I happen to be very privet about my work.”

_Ding!_

“Well,” Madara said. “Put up your things. It’s time to eat. You can worry about your research later.” Tobirama looked as though he wanted to protest, but Madara glared at him. “You’re eating right now. You’ve been without a proper meal for over a week. Your work will be there when you’re finished.”

Tobirama frowned but bent down and grabbed his things all the same. Madara saw him walking toward his room with them as he moved into the kitchen to get the fish from the oven.

 

Madara woke up the next day by a loud knock on his door. He immediately shot up from his bed and rushed to the door, opening it. Tobirama was standing on the other side, a troubled look on his face.

“What’s wrong, Senju?” Madara questioned tiredly.

“Put that collar back on,” Tobirama said quietly. “My father is on his way here to make sure that you’re properly broken. Apparently, he believes that I might be too incompetent to…how did he put it? Ah, yes, that’s right. I’m too incompetent to _housebreak an Uchiha dog._ ”

Madara was silent, just looking at Tobirama for a few moments as his heart sank deep into his stomach. Dread was tying his gut into knots, and he felt as though he might throw up. Having that collar on was bad enough, but with Butsuma Senju around while he was helpless, he didn’t know what he would do.

He nodded curtly despite this and hurriedly rushed to his night stand and knelt down, grabbing the collar. He moved to put it around his neck, but his hands were shaking too badly to clasp it together. He paused when he felt warm hands cover his own. Tobirama gently pulled the collar together and clasped it for him.

“He’s going to be an ass,” Madara told Tobirama quietly, looking him straight in the eye.

“I know,” Tobirama murmured.

“Don’t say anything about it,” Madara said. “I can take whatever he throws at me. I won’t speak out; I’ll act just like the broken slave that he wants me to be. You stay out of it, because you don’t need to get into anymore trouble. If he hits you again, I don’t know what I’ll do.”

“It’s not really that big of a deal,” Tobirama told him. “You really don’t need to be worried about it.”

“You might as well get over it, because I am,” Madara shot back.

There was a knock on the door and Tobirama stiffened. Madara shot him a worried look and said, “It’s all going to be alright. Don’t be so worried.”

“I’m not worried,” Tobirama replied, his voice going completely flat. Madara grimaced at that. It was the tone that he’d heard from the younger Senju when he’d first gotten there. He’d forgotten how much he disliked it in such a short period of time. The fact that Butsuma was the one that was causing it to come back up made Madara dislike the man more than he already had before.

Tobirama silently led them out of the room and sat down on the couch while Madara moved forward to answer the door. He inhaled deeply and allowed all of his muscles to deflate as he lowered his head submissively. Swallowing back bile, he opened the door, being sure to keep his eyes trained on the ground just before his feet.

 

 

Tobirama looked over at the door as Madara opened it and saw Butsuma and Eiji walk inside. “You’re here earlier than I expected, father,” Tobirama said politely as he stood up. He crossed his arms over his shirt and looked over at the pair with a neutral expression.

Eiji smiled at him and waved as Butsuma simply looked around the house. “Does your dog do any cleaning in here at all?”

“Yes,” Tobirama replied, “it’s my fault, is all. I was called out on such short notice last week that I was unable to pick up any more dusting supplies before I left. I had just run out.”

Tobirama did another careful sweep of the area and saw that everything else was in order. He’d always kept a clean space, and he was glad that Madara had apparently felt the same way because the house was immaculate.

Butsuma nodded slowly, apparently accepting that. He walked farther into the living room and sat down on the couch. Madara walked so that he was standing behind Tobirama, who moved to sit in the armchair.

“Come here, Uchiha,” Butsuma barked.

Tobirama stiffened his jaw and saw Madara immediately rush toward Butsuma. His head was lowered, such a pitiful display that sent fire rushing through Tobirama’s veins. He didn’t like this at all.

“Yes, sir?” Madara mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You know that you’re just a pathetic piece of Uchiha trash, right?” Butsuma questioned. “Has Tobirama managed to teach you that?”

Madara didn’t even tense as he slowly nodded his head. “Yes, sir. I know that I’m nothing but trash. He’s taught me that I’m incredibly lucky that the Senju were kind enough to spare my pathetic life…I am very grateful to Master Tobirama.” His voice was meek and broken. Madara was one hell of an actor, but it still pissed Tobirama off to hear him speak this way.

“Uchiha,” Tobirama said, being sure to keep his voice cold. “Go and get us some refreshments. Tea will do.”

Madara bowed his head, “Yes, sir,” he muttered before he quickly walked out of the room and out of their sight.

Butsuma sighed and leaned back into the couch. He turned and looked at Tobirama, who could still see the simmering anger in his father’s eyes. He was still pissed off about what had transpired the day before, and Tobirama didn’t know when he would get over it. “You’ve broken him rather well,” Butsuma observed. “I suppose that you are good for something, after all.”

Tobirama lowered his head, ignoring the twinge in his heart at the cold observation. “Thank you, father,” he said.

“You disappointed me with your report, Tobirama,” Butsuma said. “I don’t know if I can properly describe how unhappy I am with you. Normally you’re the smarter of my two remaining sons, but this was unreasonably foolish behavior that I just cannot condone. You’ve already disappointed me once with your sexuality, making you basically useless in the terms of creating an heir. The one hope that I had for you was your battle prowess, which you have managed to disappoint me in as well.”

Tobirama said nothing, just nodding. He knew that Madara would be able to hear the conversation in the kitchen and that made it so much worse. He didn’t want anyone at all to hear was his father was saying, and now there were two people with front-row seats to his humiliation. He kept his face neutral despite his growing agitation and remained calm, sitting back and listening to his father speak.

“I guess that’s why Hashirama is the heir,” Butsuma sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That doesn’t mean that I’m willing to allow my other son to be useless to this clan. We all pull our own weight. Since you failed on this last mission, and your brother was forced to come and rescue you, he will be getting the payment for the mission, since the merchant paid half up front. You will be off duty for the next month with no pay at all, and your students will be taken in by another shinobi while you’re on leave. I expect you to take this time and reflect on what kind of shinobi you want to be, and do your best to achieve that status, because I will not tolerate another embarrassment like the one that you have made of yourself this time around.”

Madara walked out of the kitchen at this time with three cups of tea on a small platter. He sat Tobirama’s down next to him and moved to sit Eiji’s down as well. Before he could, however, Eiji had stood up, and hit the tray. Tea scattered, hitting Madara and the carpet, splashing across Tobirama’s shoes as well.

“You pathetic Uchiha dog,” Eiji snarled at him. “I figured that Tobirama would have at least taught you some manners! Guests get served first.” Tobirama heard the smack and saw Madara’s face turn to the side before he stumbled backward, tripping over the table and falling to the ground. Without any chakra, Madara didn’t have enough strength or balance to keep himself standing.

Tobirama watched in shock as Madara landed, the tray falling to the carpet a few feet away. Tobirama stood up as well as Eiji laughed loudly. “Get up, scum and clean up the mess you’ve made!”

That was Tobirama’s breaking point. “Get the fuck out of my house, Eiji,” Tobirama barked at him, pointing at the door. “You will not disrespect the place that I live because of your personal grudge with the Uchiha!”

Eiji looked at Tobirama with wide eyes and a gaping mouth. “He’s just your—”

“I don’t care about that,” Tobirama lied. “What I care about is that you’re not respecting _my_ property. Hashirama gave me those glasses as a housewarming gift, and that tray was my mother’s, and that is my servant! This carpet is new and now it has a stain in it because you were feeling like an asshole. Get out of my sight before I wring your neck!”

Butsuma sighed as he got to his feet as well. “Go, Eiji. Tobirama does have a point. I’ll be taking my leave too. Think hard on all of this, son. It’ll decide your future.”

“Yes father,” Tobirama said. Both men quickly made for the door and were out of sight within moments.

Tobirama quickly dropped the careless act and hurried to Madara, who was still laying on the ground. His eyes were screwed shut in pain as Tobirama knelt next to him.

“Are you alright?” Tobirama asked. He reached around and grabbed a kunai out of his weapon’s pouch and immediately sliced through the soaked shirt the other had on. His skin was an angry red color all over his chest and stomach. There were even a few spots on his face and neck this time.

“’m fine,” Madara hissed. “I just really hate your fucking family.”

“I’m so sorry,” Tobirama murmured, bringing his hand forward and pushing chakra into his palm until it was glowing green. Just as he was about to set it on Madara’s abdomen, he felt a large hand come over and rest on top of his own.

Madara was looking at him with a said smile. “Don’t apologize. It’s not your fault, remember?”

Tobirama swallowed back an argument at that and just sighed. He knew that none of this was directly his fault, but it didn’t stop the instinct to do something _more_ to help protect Madara. There had to be something that he would be able to pull off to stop all of the horrible things that were going on.

“Hey,” Madara said quietly as he removed his hand and allowed Tobirama to begin healing him. “I just realized that I never gave you an answer about contacting Izuna.”

Tobirama turned and looked at the older man curiously. With everything that had been going on, he’d all but forgotten that he’d told Madara to give him an answer when he saw him again. Tobirama moved from Madara’s stomach to his chest, having to look away to make sure that he was going to the correct areas. He tore his eyes away from the sight right in front of him and looked back at Madara’s face.

“What’s your answer?” Tobirama questioned.

“I would be eternally grateful if you could make that happen,” Madara said after a few moments.

Tobirama smiled a bit at this as he moved his hands farther up. He cursed as he realized that he’d forgotten to remove the collar. He immediately brought his other hand around and sent a pulse of chakra into the collar and it unclasped. Part of Madara visibly relaxed that Tobirama hadn’t even realized was tense. He ran his hand over Madara’s face slowly, fixing up the burns there as well. He heard Madara let out a low sigh of relief as he completely relaxed on the ground.

He lazily opened his eyes to look up at Tobirama, who looked down at him. “Your pants appear dry. I’m guessing that you weren’t burned on your legs.”

“I’m staying away from hot drinks around here,” Madara said, a corner of his lip twisting upward. “I’m getting sick of burns.”

“I imagine so,” Tobirama agreed. He turned away from Madara for a moment as flashes of what happened went back through his head. He began shaking. Madara didn’t deserve any of this, and Tobirama was powerless against his father. There was nothing that he could do to save him from Butsuma’s abuse.

His free hand clenched into a fist in an attempt to relieve his anger. It wasn’t successful, sadly. Madara must have seen straight through him.

“Hey,” Madara said softly as he reached over and covered Tobirama’s fist with his hand, squeezing it gently. “None of this is your fault. Don’t be upset.”

“I’m upset for you,” Tobirama snapped at him. “Do you expect me to just sit around and be alright with how you’re being treated under my care? I’ve been screwing up a lot lately; I figured that I’d be able to protect you at the very least.”

“You’re trying your hardest,” Madara told him. “I’m honored that you’re going this far for me. Please just calm down a little. You’ve been through too much stress these past few days and it’s going to be very bad for you if you don’t relax.”

Tobirama felt himself grudgingly smile as he looked down at Madara, who was staring back with a gentle smile of his own. “I didn’t think you had it in you to be so kind about things, Uchiha.”

“I’m only ever cruel to my enemies,” Madara informed him. “This is the real me. This is how I treat all of my friends.”

“From what I can tell,” Tobirama joked, “Hashirama is not treated like this.”

Madara chuckled at that comment and shrugged. “Even you have to admit that your brother is special…he needs to be yelled at almost constantly to stop him from doing stupid things.”

“Are you hurting anywhere else?” Tobirama questioned, changing the subject once he remembered that Madara had been hit rather harshly.

“My head’s aching,” Madara admitted. “I bashed it pretty badly on the carpet. My hair’s thick enough, though, and I’m sure it took most of the damage.”

“Well sit up and let me look at it,” Tobirama commanded.

Madara sighed, but did as he was told. He slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. As soon as he was, however, he grimaced and grabbed his forehead with a slight hiss. “Must have hit it a bit harder than I thought,” he admitted.

Tobirama immediately came up behind him and settled down with his legs crossed. He ran his fingers through Madara’s long hair, trying his best to make it past the knots that he’d gotten while sleeping without pulling on the long tresses.

There was a sizable lump on the back of his head, and Tobirama felt wetness from where the skin had split. Madara flinched, but said nothing. Tobirama immediately retracted his hand and got on his knees. Placing a hand on Madara’s shoulder to keep him steady as he brought his hand back and focused the healing chakra to his palm. He heard Madara sigh in contentment and leaned back slightly toward him.

Much to Tobirama’s surprise, he realized that he didn’t mind at all. Madara was warm, and the contact felt nice, especially after how cold his own father had been to him.

“Thank you,” Tobirama felt himself saying, though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was thanking Madara for.

The elder Uchiha seemed to understand, because he just murmured a quiet “You’re welcome,” as he leaned more fully against Tobirama, contentedly allowing him to finish his healing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! Tension between the family is starting to rise now. What do you think is going to happen because of it?


	16. Communication

It was a late start the next day. Madara was still silently seething over Eiji and Butsuma when he finally awoke. He hated them both so much that he couldn’t even contemplate a death that would be satisfying enough for them both to meet. He hadn’t spoken of it to Tobirama, not wanting to upset the other man. The Senju wouldn’t have shown any outward signs of being distraught over it, but Madara knew better. He was blaming himself for what was happening even though there was nothing that he was able to do about it. That was another reason for his anger. How could someone put so much pressure on their child and call them nothing but a disappointment for personal choices? Madara knew that Tobirama had duties to fulfill as son of the head of the clan, but Tobirama’s overall happiness should come first, no matter what. He wanted to assure Tobirama of that, but he didn’t know how to go about it.

He pushed that troubling thought to the back of his mind and pushed himself to his feet, shuffling out of bed and heading to the bathroom to start his morning routine. Once he was finished, he moved to the kitchen and looked around.

Nothing was disturbed, and the coffee pot wasn’t on. Tobirama must have still been asleep. When he looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall, he saw that it was nearly ten o’clock. He was surprised that the younger man wasn’t already awake and taking advantage of his time off. Rumors had always said that he was an avid inventor. Madara figured that he’d be working on some jutsu or another. Remembering the jutsu that he’d accidentally helped him figure out two nights before, he suddenly felt grateful that Tobirama wasn’t working on anything. Madara had a feeling that he didn’t want to see the fruits of that labor come to light.

He walked to the cabinet next to the stove and pulled out a couple of pans. He’d start making breakfast and put on the coffee. If Tobirama wasn’t awake by the time the food was finished, Madara would simply go in and wake him himself.

The time alone in the kitchen was almost therapeutic. It might have even been tranquil while he was cooking if the thought of Tobirama’s father and cousin weren’t on his mind. He went from calm to nearly ballistic in increments of maybe five minutes and was really glad that Tobirama wasn’t awake to see it. The younger man might start thinking that Madara was crazier than the Senju already thought that he was.

The coffeemaker had beeped, letting Madara know that the precious substance was finished brewing, a few minutes before and he was sliding a few pieces of bacon onto either plate, completing the meal. He carried both plates to the table and walked a bit further out to look down the hallway. It was still dark and lacked movement. Madara sighed and shook his head.

He walked to the back of the hall, not bothering to be quiet and knocked on Tobirama’s door. He waited a few heartbeats, and when he received no answer, he opened the door and leaned inside.

The first thing that he noticed was that Tobirama’s room was immaculate, much to his relief. It meant that he truly had gone back to normal. There was no smell of alcohol, so Tobirama hadn’t resorted to liquor for this past upset. He hadn’t even realized that he’d been worried about that possibility until he saw that it wasn’t true.

His eyes moved from the meticulously clean floor and storage to the bed, which was a bit less organized. Actually, Madara might have gone as far to say that it was a disaster. Tobirama was sprawled, facedown in the bed with his arms and legs spread at awkward angles, obviously in a deep sleep. His blanket was halfway on his body, and halfway on the floor, making it a strange sight of skin and fabric. Madara couldn’t help but feel his lips twitching. It was oddly relieving seeing something that was a bit less refined about the man.

He slowly walked over to Tobirama, not really crazy about waking the man, but knowing that he needed to. He sat down on the bed next to Tobirama and reached out. His hand touched the other’s warm shoulder and he shook it gently, whispering his name.

The effect wasn’t as fast as what Madara was expecting, and the reaction certainly wasn’t. “Gimme five more minutes,” he heard Tobirama almost slur before he felt two strong arms wrap around his waist and a head in his lap.

Madara blinked, trying to understand how Tobirama had moved that quickly, and how the position was even comfortable. He looked down and felt a strange tightness in his chest at the sight. A fully-grown warrior should _not_ be considered cute, so what was with Tobirama? There really was no other way to describe the contented smile that was plastered over the half of his face that Madara could see or the way that he nuzzled against Madara, as though there was no other spot he wanted to be in.

Madara just sighed and brought his hand down onto the younger man’s head and slowly ran his fingers through his hair, massaging his scalp gently. “Tobirama,” he murmured. “It’s time for you to get up.”

Tobirama just grunted and his grip on Madara tightened ever so slightly and he pulled himself closer to Madara’s center, nuzzling again. Madara felt his eyes widen at the sensation this time. It was stimulating a mortifying reaction that he would really not like Tobirama to witness. Feeling heat wash over his face, he shook Tobirama more insistently this time, struggling to get out of his grip.

Seeming to sense an urgency, Tobirama stiffened and immediately released Madara, who shot to his feet and backed away from the bed a few steps. Tobirama lifted himself a few feet from the mattress with his elbows and forearms and slowly turned to look at Madara with bleary eyes.

“It’s time to get up,” Madara said, forcing his voice to remain calm as he spoke. He could tell that he wasn’t entirely successful by the strange look that Tobirama gave him.

“Is everything alright?” the other grunted.

“Yeah,” Madara said. “There’s coffee and breakfast waiting for you. I figured that you might want some before you begin your day.”

“Thank you,” Tobirama told him, his voice still rough from sleep. “I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

Madara had never been happier to take a hint and leave the room, shutting the door behind him. He quickly moved to the kitchen and grabbed his mug from the cupboard and poured a cup of coffee for himself and took a few sips, willing away all of his stress and was grateful to see that the stimulation wasn’t enough to cause any visible issues. Finally relaxing completely, he grabbed Tobirama’s coffee cup and fixed his as well, feeling extra charitable after seeing the adorable sight in the younger’s bedroom.

A few minutes later, Tobirama shuffled out. He was yawning and rubbing his eyes as he blearily looked at Madara, who was sitting down at the dining room table, sipping on his coffee. Madara raised an eyebrow at him questioningly. “You’re normally the morning person out of the pair of us,” Madara informed him.

Tobirama ignored that comment in favor of a yawn and a stretch. Madara suddenly became very aware of Tobirama’s shirtless state and immediately went back to eating. He heard the chair slide out and didn’t look up until Tobirama was already seated and sipping at his coffee.

“Thanks for the food,” he muttered before he grabbed his chopsticks and began eating.

Madara grunted in acknowledgement as he took a sip of his coffee. He was still extremely wary about hot liquids, but he couldn’t resist. He needed coffee in the mornings to be a functional person.

“I normally am a morning person,” Tobirama said after a few minutes of silence. “I was just up late last night. I had a conversation with Misty about Izuna. She must really like you, because she readily agreed. After breakfast, I’ll get you some paper and a pen, so you can start contacting him.”

“Thank you,” Madara said earnestly. “I’m in your debt.”

“Think nothing of it,” Tobirama said. “This is how I treat the people that I care about. Now that we’re friends, I’ll always seek to help you whenever I can.”

 

 

Prison life sucked. It was boring, dark, dismal, and he was stuck in a cramped cell somewhere deep underground without no one else around. Izuna supposed that it could be worse. His guard was _hot_. Seriously, he saw her chokeslam a prisoner for calling her a bitch a few days ago, and it was the most beautiful sight that he’d ever seen. She was the embodiment of grace, and the queen of beauty…or at least that was what he would think if he were sentimental or poetic. He’d never be _that_ lame.

He was fairly sure that he was in love, however. How could someone look at that woman in armor and _not_ feel love at first sight? Speaking of his warden, the lovely Senju was walking toward him.

She was a tall woman with dark hair tied behind her in a knot and bangs that fell into her face, covering a left brown eye. Her face was neutral as she looked at him through his cell, but the stare was much softer than it had been the first time that he’d had the pleasure of meeting her. Hell, he was pretty sure that he could say that she had become almost fond of him.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you for a few more hours, my dear,” Izuna informed her, pushing himself into a sitting position on his thin cot. He looked at her curiously, wondering what she could possibly want.

“You have a letter,” Toka told him.

“Excuse me?” Izuna asked incredulously. He pushed himself off the cot and walked to the bars on his cell. “Who would be able to write to me while I’m in this shithole?”

“Technically, nobody,” Toka informed him. “As far as anyone’s concerned, no one has ever written to you and they never will. Off the record, however…it’s your brother.”

Izuna stiffened at the mention of Madara. “How the hell is he writing to me?”

“Don’t ask so many questions,” Toka scolded. “This is risky, so just go with it. A brush is inside of the envelope along with a clean sheet of paper for you to respond.”

“You’re hot,” Izuna told her, “but you’re still a Senju. Why should I trust what you have to tell me? For all I know, this is a trap set up to have a legitimate excuse to execute me.”

Toka sighed and frowned at him, clearly frustrated. Part of Izuna felt almost bad for putting that look on her face, but another part of him knew that it could all be an act. They were enemies, so there was no reason for her to risk her neck for any Uchiha, let alone him. He harassed her for the fun of it just to pass the time.

“I’m doing it as a favor for my cousin, who’s doing it for your brother,” Toka snapped at him, thrusting the envelope through the bars. “Just read through the paper. If you don’t think it’s legit, then don’t respond. It makes no difference to me.”

Izuna guessed that the reason almost made sense. Madara had been very close to Hashirama Senju, and the man had seemed eccentric, but soft at the same time. Risking himself for something like this seemed like something the man would do. Feeling a bit better about the situation, Izuna grabbed the envelope. It couldn’t hurt to look at it, he supposed.

He went back to sit on his bed and saw Toka quickly walk away. He felt grateful for that small bit of privacy as he opened the envelope and saw two sheets of paper inside along with a pen. He pulled both pieces of paper out and discarded the blank sheet along with the envelope. He opened the letter and began reading.

_Dear Izuna,_

_I know that it is going to be hard to believe that this is me, but rest assured that this is Madara. If you require proof, then you and I both stole father’s shuriken on your fifth birthday and went out to practice with them and you accidentally hit me in the shoulder with one._

That was proof enough for him. No one else knew about that. They told everyone that Madara had accidentally set off a trap set by nearby hunters.

_I will not ask you if you are happy, because I know that there is no way that you could possibly be, but I do ask if you are being treated well. I hear that you have taken to your guard quite nicely. I implore that you do not do too much to anger her. She is in charge of your wellbeing, after all._

_I am doing quite well, myself. I am wanting for nothing aside from your release from prison, which I am unable to achieve. I was quite lucky that I ended up under the care of a kind shinobi that has honor. Do not worry about me, and be sure to behave, little brother. Your mouth was always your quickest way to get into trouble._

_Please feel free to write me back, though we will not be able to converse too much, least someone catch on to this. I will contact you again soon._

_I hope that we will be able to see each other again._

_Madara._

Izuna couldn’t stop the smile that spread to his face. He’d been agonizing over his brother since he’d been put in this prison. It was a subject that was nearly impossible to keep his mind off of. He’d been up for countless nights, fretting over what was happening to him. Had he been captive to that white-haired asshole that seemed to be colder than ice? Had his tormentor starved and beat him? Had he already been killed?

A weight lifted off his shoulders at the knowledge that his brother was fine, and it seemed as if he was almost…happy. If Madara was able to nag him, even through a letter, then his brother really was alright.

Unable to stop his excitement from getting the best of him, he immediately grabbed the blank sheet of paper and a pen. He quickly set to work writing a return letter to be sent off. He was fairly sure that Toka would take it off his hands when she brought him dinner. He smiled; that woman really was a goddess.

 

Tobirama looked over at Madara, who looked happier than he was sure that he’d ever seen the older man. A genuine smile was on his face as Misty left the house. The look was contagious, Tobirama realized as a smile crept its way onto his own cheeks. He liked that look on Madara, he decided, and he really wanted to see it again and again if he could manage it.

They sat in a comfortable silence in the living room as Tobirama pretended to read a book. Madara had one sitting in his lap, but he hadn’t bothered to open it at all. He was just staring off into space, as though he really couldn’t believe what had just happened. Realizing that he wasn’t going to be able to read anyway, Tobirama set his book down and stood up.

“You’re probably going stir crazy around here,” Tobirama told him.

Madara looked up at him and nodded slowly. “I guess I am,” he replied. “I’ve been here for a long time now.”

“Would you like to get out of here for a little while?” Tobirama questioned. “It’d involve putting that collar on.”

Madara tensed at that, the smile slowly sliding off his face. “I’d rather stay in,” he replied quickly. “I’m not going to willingly put that thing back on if I can help it.”

Tobirama was silent for a few moments, contemplating what the possible reason for Madara’s aversion for it could be. When the blaringly obvious issue suddenly popped into his head, he felt like a total moron. Mind you, it might have been because he’d never been in a situation similar until he’d been sedated.

“Is it the feeling of vulnerability that you dislike?” Tobirama inquired, already knowing what the answer was going to be.

Madara slowly nodded. “Yes,” he said. “I can’t stand not being able to feel at least powerful enough to protect myself.”

“I might not be able to protect you from my father,” Tobirama said quietly. “That doesn’t mean that I won’t be able to protect you from the other members of my clan. I won’t just stand around and let them torment you.”

“I know that,” Madara said, “but that doesn’t matter. I still have pride, you know. I’m a man, and I need to be able to protect myself. If I’m going to be unable to do that, then I don’t want to be a part of it.”

“You have friends so that they can help you,” Tobirama said. “Let me help you with this. I know that you’re getting stir crazy. I can’t imagine being cooped up in a house for so long without getting out somewhere to do _something_. The last time you got out of here, you were in a smaller hut, watching over me. You need to get out and actually move around a little and enjoy yourself. We’re not going to go anywhere that anyone is going to be able to attack you. The collar is just a precaution in case we come across some guards.”

Tobirama looked at Madara and saw that the older man was thinking hard on it. It was silent for quite a few minutes as Tobirama examined Madara’s constantly changing expressions. The man finally sighed and nodded. “Very well, Senju. I guess we can go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, my break is officially at its end, which means that I am going to be unable to update as quickly. Worry not, I will still be updating as often as I can manage.
> 
> Aside from that, I hope that you enjoyed this chapter, and the small bit of Izuna that was offered. What do you think about Izuna's opinion of Tobirama?


	17. A Walk Through the Forest

Madara fought back a grimace as he locked his collar into place. It was a horrible feeling, despite the fact that he couldn’t even feel the chakra drain from his body. _Tobirama is trying to do something nice for you,_ he scolded himself, feeling guilty over the awful feeling squirming in his gut. _Everything is going to be fine. He’s not going to let anything happen to you. You know that you can trust him._ He knew that was true, but it didn’t make anything any easier. He inhaled deeply, composing himself before he walked out of his bedroom.

Tobirama was waiting in the living room next to the door. He was simply wearing his signature blue kimono shirt and dark pants. With how fond Tobirama was of the clothing, Madara had to bet that it was very comfortable. He looked down at his own hand-me-downs and supposed that Tobirama must be all about comfort. He never bothered to look stylish or cool, but Madara supposed that was part of his charm. He didn't have to work hard to look good—not that Tobirama seemed to care about it at all—he just did.

Tobirama turned around and looked at Madara as he walked in, a small smile on his face. "You shouldn't look so uneasy," Tobirama advised him. "You're going to make me feel as though you don't trust me at all."

"You know that I do," Madara told him, unable to fight off a small smile of his own. "You're the only person around here that I do trust."

"Not all of my family is bad," Tobirama told him. "Eiji really isn't all that bad of a person. He was orphaned at a young age during one of the many skirmishes between our clans. He's resentful of the Uchihas and doesn't know how to let go of things."

"Well," Madara said, "I doubt that we'll ever be friends, so it's of no concern to me why he doesn't like me. A lot of people died during our war from both sides."

"Let's get our minds off all of that for right now," Tobirama said. "We're going to enjoy ourselves. No bad thoughts."

"Agreed," Madara said with a curt nod, forcing his muscles to relax. "I hope this is worth wearing this collar for."

"It will be," Tobirama promised him. "Trust me."

 

 

Tobirama locked the door behind them as they both stepped out onto the front porch. It was a nice day outside, a bit warmer than it had been the rest of the week. The sun was shining brightly and there was a light breeze to cool down the heat that the light was giving off. All of the non-evergreen trees were turning colors of orange, brown, red, and yellow, giving quite the beautiful sight. The street in front of his home was nearly deserted, and the few people that were there didn’t even look over at them as they walked out of his yard and began to move down the street, toward the outskirts of the Senju compound.

Madara followed behind him, easily keeping up with the sedate pace that he set. Eventually, the cobblestone pathway ended, and dirt trails began, leading into the forest. It was a bit cooler under the shadows of the trees, but not enough to be uncomfortable. Tobirama slowed his pace a bit more and moved to the side so that Madara could move in beside him.

He looked over at the older man and saw that his eyes were still tight, most likely from stress about the collar. Tobirama felt a pang in his chest. He wanted to reassure him that nothing was going to happen, but he knew that it was fruitless. His family had done nothing but bully him while he was helpless; that wasn’t something that a few reassuring words could counteract. Madara would have to see for himself that everything was going to be alright.

“May I ask you a question?” Madara asked a few minutes into their trek through the forest. Before now, he’d been looking around, making it appear that he was staring at the sight of the colorful trees, but Tobirama had a feeling that he’d been trying to locate any shinobi that were nearby. Tobirama could sense that there were none for at least a mile in almost every direction.

“Sure,” Tobirama replied, turning to look at him. “Something on your mind?”

“Actually, there is,” Madara answered. “Why do you stay here? Your father treats you horribly, and your brother has almost no faith in you at all. You could be so much happier almost anywhere else. Why would you put yourself through all of this? I know that people are supposed to be loyal to their clans, but aren’t your clans supposed to be loyal to you as well?”

Tobirama was silent for a few moments, considering the question. It was a valid inquiry, one that he’d never really thought about before. He’d never considered abandoning the Senju, but he could see the appeal of the idea. It would mean leaving them to fight a war that was not his own, and to settle problems that they had created for themselves. It would certainly be a lot less stressful, and he was sure that he’d be able to find a job somewhere else and create a comfortable life of his own, free of worries. So, what did he stick around for?

“I suppose that it’s because it’s all I know,” Tobirama replied. “I guess that this really isn’t the happiest that I could ever be, considering my position with my family, but I’m comfortable with it. I’m a warrior and an inventor, both of which I’m able to do here. What would I do with myself otherwise?”

“You say that you’re a warrior and an inventor as if that’s all there is to you,” Madara informed him, a small crease forming in his brow.

“I’m a shinobi,” Tobirama said. “You’re one too. The only thing that we are is tools that are used as our superiors see fit. There really is nothing else to me.”

“Bullshit,” Madara said almost immediately, startling Tobirama. He raised a curious eyebrow at the other man, whose face turned a light shade of red for a moment, before returning back to its original color as though he remembered why he’d made such an outburst. “There’s always more to a person than their job description. You’re more than what other people need you for, and that’s just as important as what you do for a living.”

“What do you mean?” Tobirama asked, unsure of where Madara was going with this.

“Yes, you’re a shinobi,” Madara explained, “but you’re also Tobirama Senju. You’re the man that sleeps more restlessly than anyone else I’ve ever seen. You’re the man that likes two creams and one and a half sugars in his coffee in the morning. You’re the man that loves fresh fish in almost any form, and hates anything remotely sweet. You’re the man that has an insatiable curiosity about everything in this world, and tries to find an answer through inventing. You’re the man with a strong sense of morality and tries to hide it with a cold exterior and a ruthless disposition toward enemies.”

Tobirama was silent, unsure of what to say. When did Madara come to know him so well? Could he reciprocate this? Was he able to tell certain quirks about Madara as well? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he could. Such as the gentle way that he spoke when he was trying to comfort him, or the brash way that he was when Tobirama was doing something that the older man deemed foolish. He could talk about his fierce pride and his adoration of his younger brother, who he also considered to be an utter fool on many occasions. He could speak of the almost childish way that Madara pouted when Tobirama said or did something that he disliked. He could recall the way that Madara fiercely held onto his morals, not letting them go even when things seemed to be more difficult with them in mind.

What did this mean? Did it mean anything at all, or was it just pointless tidbits that were completely useless? He had a feeling that it was important that they knew these things about the other, that it said something that they had bothered at all to notice the little things.

“You’re a shinobi,” Madara told him, “but you’re human too. You should do what makes you the happiest. I’m not telling you to desert your clan at all. I’m just saying that you should consider yourself more than you do. Yes, your clan is important, but it’s not worth your happiness when they seem to not care at all about you.”

“With the way that everything has gone for you,” Tobirama asked, “do you regret not abandoning your clan?”

“No,” Madara said. “My father was an ass, and he wasn’t a good father, but he did love me. I know that he did. He never called me useless, nor did he soberly take his frustrations out on me. Izuna and I didn’t get along all of the time, but he never readily expected the worst out of me. We care for each other and understood each other. I had the incentive to stay with my family and my clan.”

Tobirama considered Madara’s words. He could see how the family dynamic of the Uchihas differed from that of the Senju. It was quite a bit different. Tobirama had always felt as though he’d had to earn his father’s love and approval. Madara’s father, from the sound of it, hadn’t been a nice guy, but had never denied his kids the love that they needed growing up. Tobirama figured that the term for that was _tough love._

“It’s too late now for any of that,” Tobirama said. “I shudder to think of what would have happened to you if I would have left. Who knows who father would have given you to. I doubt that Hashirama would have been his next choice.”

Madara physically shuddered at this, visibly paling. “You’re right about that. I admit that I’m very glad that you stayed.” Tobirama watched as Madara looked away from him and did another scan of the trail, looking up in the trees and trying to peer through the shadows that they casted. “So, is there a specific destination in mind, or are we just aimlessly walking?”

“There’s a clearing quite a way ahead,” Tobirama told him. “It’s been a while since you’ve sparred, I imagine. I remember you saying that your favorite technique is taijutsu. I know that you don’t have any chakra, but we can still practice some moves without using any if you’d like.”

Madara’s head snapped toward him so quickly that Tobirama was afraid that he was going to get whiplash. His dark eyes were lit up in excitement, and his lips were twitching slightly, as though he was trying his best to hold back a smile. “Are you serious?”

“Completely,” Tobirama said. “You’re probably getting a bit rusty, and I’d hate for that to happen. I figure that this could be something that we could do every once in a while. No one ever comes out this way because it’s where I practice the new jutsu that I’ve invented. They can sometimes go wrong, and no one really wants to be in range if they do.”

“I…I…” Madara trailed off and looked at Tobirama with the same surprised and excited face. “I don’t know how I can properly thank you for this, Tobirama.”

“You don’t have to thank me at all,” Tobirama assured him. The smile on Madara’s face made Tobirama’s chest burn slightly. He really did like the way that it looked on him.

 

 

By the time that they got to the clearing, Madara had been able to put a lid on the majority of his elation. His mind was racing so quickly, however, that it was almost impossible to make sense of most of his thoughts. Most of them centered around the fluttering feeling in his stomach. It was almost uncomfortable, but it was also a very nice sensation at the same time. He cut his eyes toward Tobirama and noticed that the fluttering intensified as he did so. This sensation, which he was fairly sure was a result of all the gratitude that was building up inside of him, was something that he was going to have to look into later. He’d heard stories with symptoms of this feeling and the result wasn’t what one would expect to happen out of feelings of gratefulness.

_Ignore that for now,_ his mind instructed. _Tobirama has taken you out here to brush up on your skills. Take advantage of this while you can._ Madara smiled at this and looked over at Tobirama, who was starting to stretch toward the other side of the clearing. He was planning on taking full advantage of such an amazing opportunity.

 

Sadly, with the collar around his neck, Madara was only able to train for an hour before he was just too tired to do much of anything else. He thought that was a bit sad, honestly, he should have much more stamina than that _without_ chakra. Tobirama, who had made him quit in the first place placed a hand on his shoulder. “You haven’t done anything to keep your stamina up for over a month. You’re not going to be in as good of shape as you were before. Just give it time, though, and I’m sure that you’ll get a lot better.”

Madara wanted to snap at him to not patronize him about it, but refrained. He had a feeling that Tobirama wasn’t patronizing him at all. It just felt that way because he was so unhappy about his own situation. He was still heaving for breath, sitting down on the ground of the clearing while Tobirama had only just barely broke a sweat. He nodded in agreement to Tobirama’s words and silently looked around the clearing, taking in the craters that sparsely decorated the ground along with the scorched patched of earth that separated other patches of dead grass. Some of the trees were tilted, leaning over dangerously, as though they were seconds away from tipping over. He saw black ones and others that looked almost petrified.

“What kind of jutsu were you working on out here?” Madara demanded incredulously. He knew that the clearing wasn’t exactly huge, but that was still a lot of damage packed into a small space.

“They were all random,” Tobirama said. “Despite what it looks like, none of them were really meant for pure destruction. I just got the signs for the jutsu incorrect, and once my technique was off, everything was completely unpredictable. Most of the time, something exploded.”

“Have you ever seriously hurt yourself?” Madara questioned, relieved that his breath was slowly starting to even out.

“A couple of times,” Tobirama admitted. “I have a few scars from jutsu gone wrong, but it’s taught me to be a lot more cautious.”

Madara just sighed and fell back, laying down on the clearing floor with a low huff. The man that he lived with was insane, that much was obvious. At least he learned from his mistakes.

He wondered how long Tobirama would allow them to stay out of the house. It was nice out here, and all Madara wanted to do was stay for as long as possible. He hadn’t realized how suffocated he felt from being stuck in that house for so long.

Out of his peripheral vision, Madara saw Tobirama stiffen slightly and slowly turn around. Madara felt tension rise in his own gut as he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. He turned to look in the same direction as his white-haired companion. He saw nothing, but knew that meant very little with shinobi.

“What are you doing out here, Eiji?” Tobirama called out, his voice cold enough to make a shiver run down Madara’s spine. He couldn’t imagine how it felt to have that exact tone directed at him.

“Why are you never distracted enough to sneak up on?” Eiji’s voice met Madara’s ears moments later. His tone was jovial, and when he walked into Madara’s line of sight; he had on a friendly smile. “Honestly, Tobirama, they say that vigilance will keep one alive longer, but that much might be enough to wear you out enough to cause an early grave.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be working right now?” Tobirama questioned, raising an eyebrow. “I could have sworn that you had day patrol this week.”

“I switched out with someone else for the day. I’m taking their shift tonight. I wanted to find you and speak with you.” He smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his head. “I went by your house, but when I saw that you weren’t there, I figured that you had to be here.”

Madara fought the urge to stand up. He was exhausted, which meant that there was no way that he would be able to fight off any of Eiji’s attacks, even if he could. He was vulnerable regardless, but it felt even worse when he was off his feet. He coached himself into sitting tight. Hopefully, he wouldn’t draw any attention to himself if he just didn’t move. As it was, Eiji hadn’t so much as looked at him, as though he hadn’t even realized that he was there. That was definitely a good sign.

He brought his eyes back to Tobirama when he spoke. “What did you want to see me for? I figured that you would have been intelligent enough to give me a few days to cool down before seeking me out again. I’m still not happy with you.”

“I know,” Eiji said with another sheepish smile. “I’m here because I feel so badly about it that I couldn’t stand the thought of waiting to speak to you. I want you to know how truly sorry I am. I overstepped my boundaries and insulted the son of the head of my clan.”

Madara felt distrust stirring in the bottom of his gut. Yes, Eiji had been a total jerk the previous day, but he hated the Uchiha and wouldn’t see it that way at all, especially with only a small amount of time to mull over it. He wasn’t sorry, that much was obvious. He might have thought that it was to win over Tobirama’s favor because of his status in the clan, but that wouldn’t make any sense either. Tobirama was considered a failure, and his current standing with his father was worse than Madara figured normal was. He wanted to demand to know what Eiji’s angle was and warn Tobirama against it, but he knew that it would only cause a lot of trouble, especially for himself. Tobirama wasn’t stupid. He’d been recently fooled once, so Madara doubted that it would happen again, especially not so quickly after the first time.

“Thank you for the apology, Eiji,” Tobirama said to him. “I appreciate that you went out of your way to say this to me, but I don’t think that’s the only reason why you’re here. Is there something else that you needed?”

“You know me so well,” Eiji said. “Hashirama is going to be back next week after visiting Mito’s family for a little while. I think that it’d be really great if the three of us could get together and go out for some drinks.”

Madara noticed that Tobirama was silent for a few moments before he slowly shook his head. “I’m not very fond of alcohol, nor am I fond of Hashirama when he’s drank a few too many glasses. I’ll have to decline, but I do appreciate your offer.”

Eiji looked disappointed, gave Tobirama a sad smile and said, “That’s alright. I suppose that we’ll just have to get together some other time and catch up since it’s been so long.”

“We’ll see,” Tobirama said unconvincingly.

“I’ll, um…I’ll just be going then,” Eiji said. He slowly turned around and walked out of the clearing. Tobirama remained still, looking at the place that Eiji disappeared from for quite some time before he looked away.

He slowly stared back down at Madara and frowned. Madara looked back up at him with a raised eyebrow. “From that expression,” Madara said. “I’m not the only one that found your entire conversation strange?”

“No, you’re not,” Tobirama replied. He looked troubled as he took a seat next to Madara. They were silent for quite a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts.

“So,” Tobirama said, breaking the silence. “What was it like growing up as an Uchiha? Did you and your brothers have enough free time to get yourselves into any trouble?”

Madara snorted as quite a few memories of stupid antics that he and his brothers had pulled flashed through his head. “I pretty much stayed in trouble until I was in my mid-teens.”

“Really?” Tobirama questioned disbelievingly. “What could you have possibly done to keep yourself in trouble for so long?”

Madara smiled and looked over at Tobirama, unable to stop the small bit of laughter that fell from his lips. “The day that I turned six, I put my sitter under a genjutsu and ran off into the forest, leaving a four-year-old Izuna behind, and accidentally set off some explosive traps that our clan had set to alert them of incoming Senju. Before I could properly see again, I was surrounded by almost thirty shinobi, lead by my father, who was seething. I wasn’t able to sit down properly for over a week.”

Tobirama was smiling at this, his red eyes light with humor as he asked him for another story. Madara smiled back as he began recalling memory after memory of his childhood. He was pleased, for some reason, that Tobirama was curious about it and found himself wondering about his companion’s childhood himself.

They stayed in the clearing until well after dark, just exchanging story after story of themselves. By the time that they left and started walking back to the house, Madara felt as though he had never known someone so well as he knew Tobirama, and found that he really liked how much he knew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that you enjoyed! What do you think about Eiji? Do you think that he was being suspicious, or do you think that Madara and Tobirama are just paranoid?


	18. Questions and Answers

Madara was in a great mood the next morning when he woke up. Yeah, he was extremely sore, but it wasn’t anything that he wasn’t expecting, and, like all other good shinobi, his pain tolerance was extremely high. When he got out of bed and went into the kitchen, he wasn’t surprised to see that Tobirama was already awake. He was sitting down at the table with a book in front of him. He was reading it silently while sipping on a mug of coffee.

“Good morning,” Tobirama said, not looking away from his book. “There’s coffee in the pot if you want any.”

“God, yes,” Madara sighed, moving to grab a cup from the cabinet. “Do you want anything to eat?”

“I’m fine for right now,” Tobirama told him. “You should relax a little anyway. You pushed yourself too hard yesterday, and I know that you’ve got to be feeling it.”

“I’m just a bit sore is all,” Madara replied. “My muscles are tight, but they’ll be fine. The more I move around, the quicker they’ll work themselves out.”

“I actually ran to the store while you were asleep,” Tobirama said. “It’s nearly noon, so I figured that we could just eat lunch in a little while. I picked up some sandwiches so that you could take it easy.”

“That’s very thoughtful of you,” Madara responded as he sat down in his seat across from Tobirama. The other man closed his book and looked over at him.

“You do a lot around here,” Tobirama admitted. “Since I’m getting a vacation, I figured that you deserve one too. It’s only fair.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, neither speaking as they drank their coffee. Madara looked over at the clock and realized that Tobirama wasn’t lying. It was already eleven forty-five. His physical exhaustion hadn’t been the only thing keeping him up late the night before. Tobirama’s conversation with Eiji had him thinking as well.

As if the younger man had been reading his mind, he said, “I was thinking about Eiji earlier…something about that conversation yesterday really bugged me. It wasn’t normal.”

“I didn’t like it either,” Madara admitted. “It made no sense, and he really didn’t do anything other than apologize and ask you out for drinks next week. That’s something that he could have waited to do until he wasn’t working.”

“You’re right,” Tobirama told him. “I have a bad feeling in my gut about it, but I don’t know if I’m just being paranoid or not. I can’t figure out an ulterior motive for it. It’s not like my father will care that you were out there with me. For all he knows, I was using you as a test subject for my latest experiment.”

“I’m sure that thought would warm his heart right up,” Madara grumbled. It probably would. “I don’t think that he was out there as a spy. It would be pointless to try and spy on you anyway. You can sense people from ridiculous distances; your sensory abilities are that strong. He knew that you would know that he was there. I don’t think that you’re being paranoid. There was something fishy about that, and you have a right to be wary about it.”

“I don’t know if I like that Hashirama is going out with him when he gets back,” Tobirama said. “I’d rather that he not until I can figure out what all of this is about.”

“Do you think that he means the both of you harm?” Madara asked.

“I don’t know,” Tobirama said. “He’s loyal to a fault to our clan, from what I can tell about him. I can’t see him wanting to hurt either of the potential heirs. He has nothing to gain from it anyway. He’s a fairly distant cousin and wouldn’t be next in line for the title. He’s never displayed any power-hunger that I’ve noticed, though reading people definitely isn’t my strong-suit.”

Madara was quiet as he contemplated it. Aside from the more assholish parts of his personality, Tobirama was describing him as a stand-up guy. Eiji really didn’t seem like the type to harm family, especially since he had no clear motive.

“You mentioned before that he and Hashirama spoke frequently,” Madara said. “It’s not really a stretch to think that he just wants to do that again and was wanting to invite you in order to get back on your good side. You and your brother are fairly close, so it stands to say that you being angry at him would put a rift between him and Hashirama. I’m sure that Hashirama is safe from anything dodgy that might be going on with him, besides, your brother is an insanely powerful shinobi. He, of all people, will be perfectly fine, no matter what company he keeps.”

Tobirama nodded slowly, but the frown on his face didn’t completely dissipate. He finally sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. “You’re probably right. Sometimes I forget how powerful Hashirama is because he’s such an idiot.”

“I’m sure that everything will work itself out,” Madara told him.

“You’re surprisingly optimistic,” Tobirama informed him, raising an eyebrow. It wasn’t a mocking look so much as it was a genuinely curious one. “I’m in shock.”

Madara grinned at him. “It’s hard not to be optimistic when things have been going so well for me. Sure, there have been some bumps, but overall, I’d say that my situation isn’t nearly as bleak as it could be. You’ve really been great, Tobirama.”

“You sure that it isn’t just Stockholm syndrome?” Tobirama asked him humorously.

“I considered that,” Madara joked. “I don’t think that it is. If it was, however, I can’t say that I’m not okay with it.”

Before Tobirama could reply, there was a loud _pop_ and the kitchen was filled with smoke that quickly disappeared, leaving a large leopard in its place. Misty was standing in the room with an envelope strapped to her side. Madara felt his heartrate increase at the sight of it and quickly got to his feet.

“Hello, Misty,” he greeted. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

“I’m sure that you’re more excited about the note that I carry,” Misty informed him dryly, but there was no hint of animosity in her voice. “I find that you care so much about your family very admirable.” She looked at Tobirama and said, “I’m sorry that I cannot stay long, child. The elders have called a meeting and as matriarch of my family, I am required to attend.”

“I hope all is well,” Tobirama said as he walked over and extracted the envelope.

“It’s just a routine meeting,” Misty assured him. “There’s nothing to be concerned over.”

“Then I wish you a quick meeting,” Tobirama told her. “I’m aware of how dull those can be.”

She snorted. “It’s not likely. I’m sure that some of my kin will be arguing over land boundaries like they always do.” She paused for a moment, as though procrastinating for as long as she could before she disappeared in a puff of smoke. Madara grimaced at the thought of routine meetings as she left, feeling for her. They really were horrible. He didn’t dwell on that thought for very long as Tobirama handed him the envelope. He quickly tore it open and unfolded the paper, eagerly taking in the words written down.

_Dear Madara,_

_I’m surprisingly comfortable in my small cell. I assure you that I have not been too aggravating to my beautiful guard. She hasn’t harmed me yet. I’m pretty sure that I’m growing on her slowly. She is taking very good care of me. She’s a fierce woman, and you know that I love them feisty. I promise to be good, however, so try your best not to fret over me._

_It is a relief to hear that you are well. I was admittedly worried over your condition, and was ecstatic to learn that you were being treated good. Whoever your captor is, I’d like you to pass on my word of thanks to them. They are an admirable person for sticking their neck out for you to have contact with me. Speaking of this, who is it? Is it your friend, Hashirama, or is there another person from that wretched clan with morals?_

_I must live vicariously through you, since my existence has become such a dull one. All I’ve been doing is speaking to Toka to pass my time. Sadly, she is not around much. Because of this, I beg you to tell me what you have been up to lately. It has to be more interesting than what I’ve been doing. Have you met any pretty women? Are the Senju as barbaric as the rumors make them out to be? I would love to hear your thoughts on everything._

_Please write something to keep me entertained at least for a little while._

_Love Izuna._

Madara couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at the short letter. He supposed that Izuna was going crazy from being cooped up in a small cell all of the time. He had always been the most hyper of all of his brothers.

“Izuna says thank you,” Madara said to Tobirama, who had taken his seat again and had begun reading his book.

Both of Tobirama’s eyebrows shot up at this as he looked away from his book and at Madara. “He said what?”

“He said thank you for sticking your neck out and allowing us to communicate like this,” Madara said. “It really is admirable of you to do something so potentially risky. My brother can be an asshole, but he isn’t ungrateful.”

“I never said that he was,” Tobirama informed him, “but your brother and I don’t really have a great track record. I was under the impression that he hates me more than you do.”

“I don’t hate you,” Madara told him. “I figured that much was obvious.” He was silent for a few moments before he sighed. “Izuna doesn’t know who he’s thanking yet. I haven’t told him who I was given to, and he’s thinking that I’m with Hashirama.”

“Ah,” Tobirama said, understanding lighting up in his eyes. “It might be wise of you to keep it that way. Your brother isn’t fond of me, and I believe that he’s better off thinking that we still have nothing to do with each other.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Madara snapped. “He needs to know who’s helping us out, and you deserve his personal thanks for this.”

“He isn’t going to like it,” Tobirama said. “I did this to make you happy. Not for his recognition. I honestly don’t care if he knows that I’m the one that did this or not.”

“Well, I do,” Madara insisted. “He will know, and he will learn to be happy about it, even if he doesn’t want to. You’re not a bad person, and I will not allow my younger brother to go on thinking that you are.”

“We tried our damnedest to kill each other,” Tobirama informed him. “Honestly, we’ve not gotten along since we were children. It’s pointless to try and change things now.”

“It’s like you said,” Madara shot back, “we were enemies back then, and we were at war. There’s no war anymore, so there’s no reason to try and kill each other. If we have allies, then it shouldn’t matter who they are. I’m sure that you and Izuna will be able to see through your differences eventually.”

“Not likely,” Tobirama said, though he waved his hand, as if in resignation. “Do what you wish, however.”

“Why are you so reluctant?” Madara inquired. He smiled as a sudden realization hit him. “You don’t want him to realize how soft you can actually be. That’s it, isn’t it?”

Tobirama’s face reddened and he looked back down at his book quickly. Madara was unable to hold back a laugh at that, and it only intensified at the scowl that broke across Tobirama’s face.

“I’m not soft, Uchiha,” Tobirama snapped at him. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“It isn’t ridiculous if it’s true,” Madara informed him cheerily. “You have no reason to be self-conscious about it, however. You’re human, and I like that about you.”

When Tobirama’s glare didn’t falter, Madara just sighed and reached over. He placed a hand underneath his chin and forced his head to lift up. When he was looking at him again, Madara said, “If it’s that much of a problem for you, however, I’ll keep this as our secret.”

Tobirama’s scowl softened until it was gone, and a small smile replaced it. “Thank you.”

Madara’s chest tightened at the look and he quickly removed his hand from Tobirama’s person. It was getting almost too easy to casually touch Tobirama. He was doing it without a second thought, and that was starting to bother him a little bit, not that Tobirama seemed to mind it. The ease that Tobirama accepted his affection was bugging him as well.

“I’m going to go and get something to read as well,” Madara said abruptly, pushing his chair back and getting to his feet. Before Tobirama could say anything at all, Madara had already disappeared down the hallway and rushed to his room, closing the door behind him. Why was his heart fluttering so much? It was as though an untouchable part of his mind had already made a discovery that he wasn’t privy to yet.

 

 

Tobirama blinked in confusion as Madara high-tailed it out of the kitchen. That was weird. Maybe he was in a lot of pain and didn’t want him to see. Part of him wanted to go and check and see if he was alright, but he remained seated. Something in his gut was telling him to leave the Uchiha alone. Tobirama could sense that he didn’t want to be disturbed, and he would respect his wishes. Sore muscles wouldn’t kill him, just make it uncomfortable to move around for a few days.

It might not even be sore muscles. Tobirama had found that Madara was prone to regular mood swings that sometimes left Tobirama reeling. It was possible that he was just going through one of them. He just mentally shrugged and went back to his book. He was certain that Madara would get through whatever it was quickly. He always did.

 

Tobirama was called to his father’s office three days later. It was later in the afternoon, and he and Madara had been lounging around the house after another sparring match when the messenger had knocked on his door. They left quickly after informing him that he was to be there within the next half hour. Tobirama closed the door after them and turned around.

Madara was sitting on the couch, staring at him with an unhappy frown. “What is it?” Tobirama questioned.

“I don’t like the thought of you going back to see him by yourself,” Madara admitted. “Not after what he did the last time that you were alone with him. You and I both know that it’s not going to end well.”

“I can’t just ignore his summon,” Tobirama informed him. “It’s not going to be that bad. I’ve done nothing to anger my father.”

“You didn’t do anything the last time,” Madara argued. “Honestly, Tobirama. He seems to get angry at things that happen normally in life.”

“He was angry because I acted like a fool,” Tobirama corrected him, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’ve done nothing foolish since I’ve been back, so there’s nothing to worry about.” Tobirama couldn’t help feeling pleased and frustrated at Madara’s reaction. It was nice to know that someone was concerned about him, but it was annoying that he was so fixated on his father. Butsuma Senju was head of his clan and his superior. Tobirama wasn’t able to refuse him, no matter how much Madara seemed to want him to.

Tobirama grabbed the empty plate that was on the table and walked it to the kitchen. When he walked back into the living room, he made his way over to Madara and clasped a hand on his shoulder. “You shouldn’t worry so much, Madara. You’re going to have grey hairs before your time.”

“That’s rich coming from a white-haired freak,” Madara jabbed at him.

Tobirama grinned at that as he let his hand slide off Madara’s shoulder. “I’ll be back soon, alright? This won’t take too long.”

“Alright,” Madara said as he pushed himself to his feet. “Be careful and don’t do anything to piss him off.” His face was contorted into a concerned frown that made Tobirama’s chest pang.

“Thank you,” he found himself saying without even meaning to let the words slip from his lips, “for being so concerned.”

Madara’s face reddened at this and he immediately averted his eyes. “W-whatever, Senju. Just go and don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t,” Tobirama promised, his grin turning into a full-blown smile at Madara’s reaction. He would never tell Madara that he loved it when the older man blushed, but he really did. He backed away from Madara completely and turned around, quickly walking out of the house.

He made quick time to the mansion, wanting to get it over with so that he could get back. He walked up and knocked on his father’s office door. He heard his father’s voice telling him to enter seconds later. Tobirama took a deep breath and steeled himself before he walked inside. It was just like the last time that he’d visited the office. His father was seated at his neat desk, looking down at a sheet of paper. It was as though his father followed a meticulous routine, which was probably the case.

He looked up and pushed the paper aside. Butsuma’s face wasn’t pinched into a frown, but he didn’t look excited to see Tobirama either, so Tobirama didn’t know if it was a good or a bad kind of visit.

“Sit down, son,” Butsuma said, pointing to one of the two chairs that sat in front of his desk. Tobirama immediately complied and took his seat on the uncomfortable leather and looked at his father, waiting for him to speak.

“You’ve had enough time to form a suitable answer, I’m sure,” Butsuma said. “What kind of shinobi do you think that you want to be?”

Tobirama was silent, pondering the question. He hadn’t expected to be called in so soon for this conversation, if at all. He looked at his father, wondering what he wanted to hear and if it was anywhere close to what Tobirama wanted to say.

“I want to be something that I am proud of,” Tobirama admitted after a few moments. “I feel as though I won’t be truly happy unless I can look back years from now and say that I was the man and ninja that I strove to be. I’m not perfect, father, and I know that I never will be. I do not wish to be a foolish ninja or man.”

“That does not answer my question,” Butsuma said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back on his chair. “Have you given any thought to it at all, son?”

“I have,” Tobirama assured him. “I’ve given everything a lot of thought, and I think that I already knew my answer before you ever asked the question. What I’m almost sure of, however, is that you’re not going to like my answer. May I ask what the consequences of my response are?” This was a test along with a question; he wanted to know how loyal his father was to him. Madara’s words from four days previously had left a lasting impression on him, and had given him quite a lot to think about.

Butsuma’s gaze had become a bit darker at Tobirama’s words. He knew that he was pushing things with his dad, but he couldn’t help it. He needed these answers more than his dad needed to hear Tobirama say the words that he wanted to hear the most. “Your answer will decide your standing in this clan,” Butsuma finally said. “You’re an intelligent man, Tobirama. You know what we expect from you here. The main question is, are you going to deliver that, or are you going to continue being a disappointment to us all.”

“I love my clan, and I love my family,” Tobirama replied. “That’s something that no one can refute. It’s not as though you guys have given me much of an incentive to stay with how I am treated by both you and Hashirama. The rest of the clansmen respect my position, but I see the looks in their eyes as they stare at me. Your opinion of me has rubbed off onto them, and they stare as though there is something wrong with me. You asked what kind of shinobi that I strive to be, well my answer is that I wish to be a fierce and loyal shinobi who is dedicated to a clan and a family who is just as dedicated to me regardless of my personal choices. I wish to be a part of something greater than myself with comrades that still respect me when I have made a mistake. I don’t wish to be a part of an organization that allows nothing but perfection, and when one slips up they are heavily punished just for being human.”

His father’s glare had gotten even darker at his response. Tobirama pushed himself to his feet and bowed to his father. “That is my answer, sir. I will leave you alone to think about it and decide what you would like for me to do.”

Despite his calm exterior, his heart was pounding harshly in his chest as he turned around and walked out of the office door and down the hall. He quickly descended the stairs and exited the house. He managed to jump into the trees surrounding the manner before his mask broke.

 

 

Kagami didn’t like the new place that he was staying. His parents had insisted that he was only four years old and shouldn’t worry himself about what was going on, but he couldn’t help it. He’d always been extraordinarily smart for his age, and was able to sense that something just wasn’t right. It was a combination of the anger that everyone seemed to have on their faces as they walked around and worked and the stupid collar that wouldn’t come off his neck. There were people in guard uniforms walking around the perimeter of their new town, and they looked just as angry as everyone in their clan. They were Senju guards, that much he had gathered from walking around the village and hearing people mutter under their breath.

He didn’t get it. Why were Senju guards near them? The Uchiha and the Senju were mortal enemies. If that was the case, then they shouldn’t be near each other, right?

He puzzled over this as he walked through the pathways that separated the tiny houses. They were all small, just like his own, which only consisted of a single bedroom, a tiny front room that held the kitchen and sitting area, and a very small bathroom. He really missed his old house. It hadn’t been huge, but it was a lot bigger. He had more room to play, and his father had been teaching him how to sneak around. It had been a lot of fun trying to get past his mother and steal a cookie after he had been sent to bed.

Mourning over the fact that he was no longer able to get ahold of any cookies at all, he turned and slowly walked toward the back of the village. His mom had sent him to a friend’s home while they went out and worked that morning. It was already dark out, and he needed to get home before dinner was served. His parents really didn’t like him being out late.

He heard whispering and stopped. He had always been curious by nature, and had always had really good hearing, which was how he’d managed to catch the low noise. He smiled as he realized that this would be the _perfect_ opportunity to test his sneaking skills since his father no longer tried to help him perfect it. He slowly crept closer to the window of the nearest home. It was where he had heard the noise drift from. Once he was underneath, he crouched down and listened.

“Are you sure that there’s no other way?” a voice asked sharply.

“Of course, there isn’t,” another one snapped. “They’re not going to just let us go. I refuse to stay like this, and I’m not about to let my kids live this kind of life either. I’d rather die than look at them when they’re old enough to understand that their father did nothing to try and free them from this hell. The only thing that’s going to work against them is a rebellion.”

“You’re right, I guess,” another voice sighed. “We’ll talk about this in more detail tomorrow night. We don’t want to be away too long. Someone might get suspicious with all of us holed up like we are.”

“Agreed,” a lot of voices muttered at the same time.

Kagami jumped when he heard feet pattering. He quickly ran off, darting home as fast as he could. He might not have known much about what was said, but it sounded bad and dangerous. His parents would probably know more than he did. He could just ask them. He rushed through the door a moment later.

“I was wondering when you’d get home.” His mother sounded angry. Kagami grimaced, knowing that he was going to hear about being late. He shouldn’t have stopped to test his sneaking skill, but it had been too tempting not to. He dragged himself forward and looked up at his parents. His mom was a blond with pretty blue eyes while his father had black hair and dark eyes. Both of them were scary when they glared at him with their arms crossed over their chests.

“I’m sorry,” Kagami said. “I didn’t mean to be late, but I heard some people talking and I was curious.”

Both of his parents frowned even more at this. “Who was talking?” his father rumbled.

“I don’t know,” Kagami admitted. “They were saying some weird things, though…dad, what’s a rebellion?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know what you're thinking "gosh, this is such a quick update!" I know it is, and I don't even know how I managed to pull this out, but it's definitely unexpected by both of us! I hope that you enjoyed the quick chapter!
> 
> Things are starting to progress quickly now, and the peak of the story is coming up quickly. I'm excited about it and sad at the same time, because it means that I'm getting close to marking this one as complete. Sooo...what did you think about Tobirama's answer to Butsuma? How about Madara's reaction to Tobirama in general? And lastly...what about the Uchihas?


	19. Doing what Makes us Happy

The next three days went by quickly. Tobirama hadn’t heard from his father in all of that time, and he didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing. He was thinking that it was bad. Butsuma wasn’t going to be happy with him, and this silence probably meant that he was trying to figure out a suitable punishment to deal out to him. Tobirama would leave it alone, however. He wasn’t in any hurry to figure out what his honesty was going to cost him.

Hashirama had just gotten back that morning, and Tobirama wanted to speak with him. His brother was always wiser in the way of human interactions than he was, and he needed him to shed some light on a few things that were happening. He was starting to feel strange around Madara. His chest was tightening whenever Madara did something endearing (and he was beginning to find more and more things about him endearing). He found himself staring at him—subtly, of course—more than usual, and found that he wanted to speak with him all of the time. Tobirama had never been around someone that he truly wanted to spend the majority of his time before and it was unsettling. At first, he’d just brushed it off, thinking that maybe Madara was simply turning into his best friend. It was hard to be around someone so much and not become closer to them, after all, but he had a feeling that this was different. He needed a second opinion on this, and it wasn’t as though he could go and talk to Madara about it…at least, he couldn’t until he had a definitive answer for how he felt.

It was around noon when he told Madara that he was stepping out for a while. The other man looked at him curiously, his eyebrow raised over a dark eye. “Is everything alright?” Madara asked him. He was seated on the armchair with a cup of tea next to him, looking as though he was going to do nothing but relax the entire day. Tobirama hoped that he did. The man got worked up over the smallest issues and never seemed to be without stress. It would be good for him to unwind.

“Everything’s fine,” Tobirama assured him with a weak smile. “I’m just going to see my brother for a while. I want to speak with him about some things. Eiji being one of them. I’d prefer if he had his guard up tonight if they are still going out for drinks.”

Madara nodded in agreement to this and looked back down at the book on his lap. “Are you going to be out for a long time? I’ll only make lunch for me, if that’s the case.”

“It’ll probably be a couple of hours,” Tobirama admitted. “You know how Hashirama can be when he hasn’t seen someone in a while.”

Madara grimaced slightly at this and nodded his head. “Yeah, I do. I wish you luck. Don’t let him suffocate you with his hug.”

“I’ll do my best,” Tobirama told him as he walked out of the door and made his way to the main house.

He made sure to act as though he had no reason to feel uneasy about being in his old home, and kept a completely blank mask on his face. The more he looked natural there, the less he was going to stand out. Butsuma would be working, so it wasn’t as though he was going to see his father. Hashirama would be resting at this point and wouldn’t be expected to report back to his job post until the next day, so the best place to look for him would be his room.

He walked up the stairs and knocked on his brother’s door. A few moments later, Hashirama opened it and looked at him. Bags were underneath his eyes, but his smile was genuine. “Tobirama!” he said as he pulled him into a hug. Tobirama sighed, but didn’t fight it, allowing the embrace and even hugging him back. Hashirama had gotten better over the past month, and Tobirama felt as though he was able to depend on him a little more than before. It was a nice feeling to have such a good older brother.

“It’s so good to see you again,” Hashirama said as he pulled away from him and allowed him inside. He turned the light on and went to sit on his bed. Tobirama looked around and saw exactly what he expected to see. Hashirama’s room wasn’t messy, but it wasn’t neat either. He wasn’t obsessively neat like Tobirama was, so there were a few pieces of clothes sitting on top of his dresser, and a small pile of kunai that needed to be tended to on the floor. The normalcy of it made Tobirama relax even more. With the way that things were changing in his life, he could always depend on the small things that Hashirama always did, to make him feel more stable.

“You just saw me last week,” Tobirama informed him, but there was no sharpness in his voice. Madara had helped him out a great deal with his father’s harshness, but it wasn’t the same as Hashirama’s concern. He wouldn’t trouble his brother with that right now, anyway. There were other things that he wanted to talk to him about.

“Is there something that you needed to say?” Hashirama asked, raking a hand through his long, and currently messy, brown hair. “You rarely seek me out for idle chatter.”

“You’re right,” Tobirama said. “I wanted to talk to you about Eiji.”

“I saw him when I first got here,” Hashirama smiled. “He invited me out for drinks tonight. I think that’ll be great after the long trip I just had. Are you sure that you don’t want to go? It’ll be fun!”

“I’m sure,” Tobirama said. “I know that you’re going to go out anyway, but I beg you to be careful. Eiji approached me last week, and was acting strange. I just would like you to be on your guard around him tonight.”

Hashirama was silent for a few moments with a curious frown on his face. “What do you mean by strange?”

“His mannerisms and the timing that he asked me to go out with you guys,” Tobirama explained. “I didn’t like it. There’s something off about it all, and I just want you to be careful.”

“I don’t think that you have anything to worry about with Eiji,” Hashirama said, “but have no worries. I’ll be on my guard if it’ll ease your mind.”

“Thank you,” Tobirama told him. He opened his mouth to ask Hashirama another question, but cut himself off before he could. How did one approach asking questions of this nature?

“Is there something else on your mind?” Hashirama asked. “You still look troubled, little brother.”

“I…I do have another question,” Tobirama admitted. “I’ve been feeling…strange lately, and I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Are you sick?” Hashirama questioned, standing up, his brown eyes bright with concern.

“No,” Tobirama shook his head quickly. “It’s not a sickness.”

“What are your symptoms?” Hashirama inquired.

“There’s someone,” Tobirama managed to get out, purposefully looking away from Hashirama, “that I feel strange around. I…it’s not like the feeling that I got when I was around Eiji, but it’s still unsettling. My chest tightens to the point of near discomfort, and there’s a distracting fluttering sensation in my stomach when they do certain things. I just…I’m not sure about—”

“Are you close to this person?” Hashirama asked him. Tobirama looked back at his brother and saw a gentle smile on his face. He reached out and placed a supporting hand on his shoulder. “I’m not going to laugh at you, Tobirama. This isn’t a laughing matter. You can talk to me.”

Tobirama managed a smile at this assurance, instantly feeling better now that he knew that his brother was treating this seriously.

“I am,” Tobirama admitted. “I felt as though we were just becoming best friends, but I’m not so sure now. He’s a great person, but I’m not even sure if he likes men or not. He’s never really given me any indication that he has.”

“You could always ask them,” Hashirama said. “It sounds like you have it bad for whoever it is. A lot of people are self-conscious about their sexuality and try their best to hide it, but if they’re close enough to you, I’m certain that they’ll open right up. Take Madara, for example. It took him years, but he finally told me that he preferred men a few weeks ago. If they’re your friend, then I’m certain that they’ll have no problem at all talking to you about it.”

Tobirama had to fight to keep a straight face at his brother’s remark. It was almost as though Hashirama knew who Tobirama was referring to, but that was impossible. He’d never given any indication about his changing feelings to anyone at all.

“So…” Hashirama said after a few moments, “do I get to know the identity of this lucky man?”

“I’d prefer to keep that to myself,” Tobirama murmured.

“In that case,” Hashirama said. “If he really does make you feel that way when you’re around him, then you should go for it. Your happiness means more than anything else, and you should try to be as happy as you can be. It’s definitely worth a shot.”

Tobirama was silent for a few moments, just taking this in. Somewhere deep down, he’d already known that this was the case, but hearing someone else tell him so made it so much more concrete for him. He felt a smile tugging on the corners of his lips as a weight that he hadn’t realized was on his shoulders suddenly slipped off. He nodded his head. “Thank you, brother. I think that I really needed to hear that.”

“I’m glad that I could help…and I feel very happy for you, Tobi. Of all people, you definitely deserve a chance at happiness, and I hope that this person is your key to it.”

“I think that they are,” Tobirama said. He hoped so at the very least. “I…I’m sorry to leave so suddenly, but I need some time to clear my head, and you look as though you could use some sleep.”

Hashirama smiled a him understandingly. “Don’t overthink things, alright? You might end up talking yourself out of it.”

“I won’t,” Tobirama promised as he walked to the door. “Thank you for your advice, Hashirama.”

His brother nodded at him, and Tobirama shut the door behind him, quickly exiting the house afterward. He was in no hurry to go back to his house. Madara was there, and the thought of facing the man was unsettling to say the least. He needed to think a little more. He doubted that it would make him feel any more confident, but the thought of barging inside without any mental preparation at all made him shudder. He just walked into the forest that surrounded his home and jumped into a tree, leaping from limb to limb, moving farther inside of the woods. A walk would be therapeutic, and it would definitely help him calm down enough to clear his head.

 

 

Madara started to worry after the two hours that Tobirama had predicted that he would take had passed. It had been nearly seven hours so far and there was still no sign of Tobirama. Now, he was past worried and starting to reach into the realm of hysterics. He’d gone to see his brother, but even Hashirama wouldn’t hold someone up this long. It was possible that he’d gone back and spoke to his father while he was there. Tobirama hadn’t said what he was being summoned for earlier that week, and Madara didn’t know if he and Butsuma were on good terms again or not. Anxiety was churning in his gut. He swore that he was going to give Tobirama a piece of his mind if there was nothing amiss when he got back and had made him worry needlessly.

It was nearing seven o’clock when Tobirama finally walked in the door. His clothes were ruffled and dirty. There were a few dirt marks marring his face, and a scratch across his cheek, just below the war paint. Madara stood up immediately. “What happened?” he demanded with a concerned frown. “Are you alright?”

Tobirama blinked and just stared at him. The look on his face was blank, but something about the intensity of the gaze made him uncomfortable. He swallowed uneasily and opened his mouth. He wanted to say something else, but the words got stuck in his throat. Was Tobirama alright? He was acting strange, and Madara didn’t know what to make of it.

Tobirama stepped further into the living room and shrugged out of the light jacket that he’d worn, tossing it on the arm of the sofa. “I have a question,” he said softly. His gaze hadn’t left Madara once, and he felt as though he was petrified under it. He was lucky that he was remembering to breathe at this point.

“What is it?” Madara questioned shakily. Hell, he was proud of the fact that he’d managed to get any sound out at all.

“Do you remember when you told me that I should seek out happiness?” Tobirama questioned him.

Madara frowned at this. “Yes,” he replied. “What’s on your mind?”

“Do you believe that there are any stipulations to that?” Tobirama inquired. “I mean…do you think that there are limits to what I should do to find my happiness? Do you think that there are lengths that I shouldn’t go because it could potentially ruin something that is rather pleasant, but the alternative would be something amazing?”

“I think that you should go after what makes you happy with full force,” Madara told him. “Nothing else should matter. If the alternative is that great, then the reward would definitely be worth the risk. If it’s important to you, then you should go for it. You deserve to be happy, Tobirama. Do whatever it is that you have to do to be that way.”

“Okay,” Tobirama murmured. He finally looked away from Madara, his eyes training themselves on the ground. He chewed on his lip for a moment, clearly indecisive and Madara couldn’t help the tug of curiosity in his gut at the expression. What was making him so torn? It wasn’t like Tobirama to be uncertain of anything. He wished that he could do something to clarify the situation, even a little bit, but it looked to be something that the younger man was going to have to work out himself.

He looked back up a moment later, and his face had gone from blank to determined, as though he had finally made up his mind. He took a step forward, and then it was a blur.

He was in front of the Uchiha before he could even blink. Tobirama was so close that their noses were practically touching. Madara felt his throat close up and his heart take off, beating so harshly that his chest hurt. He swallowed, trying to get rid of the lump in his throat. “W…what are you doing?” Madara managed to croak. His breathing was becoming ragged just at the other man’s close proximity. He could feel Tobirama’s warmth, and the breath that was brushing across his face was making it hard to think straight. Had his eyes always been such a beautiful shade of red?

“I want to try something,” Tobirama whispered. Madara could feel the vibration from the deep baritone of his voice and it caused a shiver to rush down his spine. Madara felt a warm hand cup his cheek and a thumb slide up and down his skin in a light caress that short-circuited his mind even more than it already was. “I think that this will make me _very_ happy.”

Madara watched as Tobirama leaned a bit closer and his eyes slowly fluttered shut. Madara felt himself reciprocating the motion, even though his brain was failing to compute exactly what was going on. Was Tobirama about to kiss him? Why wasn’t that thought troubling him like it should? Why was his heart racing in anticipation of the contact? Did he actually want this to happen?

He felt his breath hitch just as Tobirama’s lips lightly brushed against his, barely making contact.

BANG! BANG!

Madara flinched and wrenched himself backward at the same time that Tobirama did. He was gasping for air as his heartbeat pounded heavily in his ears. He looked at Tobirama with wide eyes as the other man glared at the door, stalking over and wrenching it open as though it had been the thing responsible for their interruption. Madara didn’t know if he was upset about the abrupt end to their little moment or not. His mind was still reeling, and he couldn’t think straight at all.

He looked over at the door wearily, wondering what was going on. He saw Eiji standing in the doorway, doubled over with his hands on his knees, panting as heavily as Madara had just been. “What is it?” Tobirama growled. “I thought that you were supposed to be out with Hashirama right now.”

“Your brother,” Eiji panted. “he’s…he’s…oh, god, Tobirama. There’s something wrong with him! Hashirama just collapsed!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of the parts that I first thought up when thinking of this story...so I don't know why it came out as so choppy at the beginning. I can't stand it, but nothing that I'm doing seems to make it any better. I hope that you enjoyed it anyway, and FINALLY, a real TobiMada moment, that was totally ruined by awful news. Sorry (not really) for the horrible cliffhanger. I promise to update soon.


	20. Unideal Circumstances

Madara felt his heart sink at Eiji’s words, but he darted into his room all the same, getting on his knees to fish out the collar from the bottom drawer of his nightstand. He hurriedly locked it around his neck. With all of the commotion, it would be safer to go ahead and have it on. There was no telling who else would show up, especially since it was Hashirama that had been hurt.

He rushed back out of the room and saw that Tobirama was gone. He noticed that the door was still open and Eiji was still bent over with his hands on his knees, gasping for air. Feeling a bit sympathetic toward the man—he had just rushed here to tell Tobirama about his brother, after all—he moved into the kitchen and fixed a glass of water.

He walked out and over to the door and held out the glass. “Would you like some water, sir? I’m sure that it would help sober you up a little.”

“You’re right,” Eiji said. His voice sounded clear to Madara’s ears as he stood up. There was a dangerous light to his eyes as he slowly took a step toward Madara. His face contorted into a twisted grin as he took yet another step forward. “It would help me if I were actually drunk.”

Madara was silent as he tried to figure out what was going on. The collar that he’d just put on was weighing heavily on his neck. That had been a mistake if there ever had been one.

Madara instinctively took a step back. Adrenaline was starting to pump through his veins. He had no chakra, and he had a feeling that he was seriously going to need it in a few minutes. Eiji stalked forward, that grin still on his face. He slowly reached behind himself and pulled a kunai from his weapon’s pouch.

“Are you responsible for Hashirama’s condition?” Madara questioned, never taking his eyes off the kunai.

“Why are you worried about that fool right now?” Eiji asked him. “You really should be worried about yourself.”

“That fool is my best friend,” Madara informed him. If Eiji had harmed Hashirama, Madara would kill him. He didn’t care if he had no chakra, Eiji was a dead man. “Are you responsible for his condition?”

“He’s just as guilty as all of you Uchihas,” Eiji snarled at him, “why should I spare him?”

Now Madara was confused and scared for Hashirama’s sake. “Spare him from what, exactly?” Madara questioned slowly.

“Extermination,” Eiji said simply. “You’ll be the fifth one that I’ve taken care of, and Tobirama will either agree with my idea, or he’ll be slaughtered like a traitor as well.”

“You’re insane,” Madara said faintly. He took another step back as his anger rose. He tried to keep it at bay, because he needed to think with a clear head now, of all times. He was at a severe disadvantage, and skill and rage would only get you so far with a ninja that was using chakra. Eiji wasn’t a well-known Senju, so he couldn’t be that formidable in battle, or Madara would have heard rumors like he had for Hashirama, Tobirama and Toka.

The fact that he wasn’t on a god-like level made things a bit easier, but this was still going to be bad.

“Why don’t you be a good little slave and die when I tell you to?” Eiji asked him sarcastically.

“I have things that I want to do still,” Madara answered anyway. He really did have things that he wanted to do that dying would seriously hinder…such as getting ahold of Tobirama and asking him what the hell had just happened.

Eiji didn’t bother responding. He just snarled and leapt forward. Madara saw him flying through the air and ducked, rolling out of the way and coming to his feet next to the armchair. He jumped over it and ran into the kitchen. He reached into the drawer and pulled out a kitchen knife. Tobirama didn’t make a habit of leaving things lying around, weapons included, which meant that all of the kunai were in the Senju’s room. It was too far of a run to make with a ninja behind him. The kitchen knife wasn’t as durable, and wouldn’t throw as well as any ninja tool, but he could make it work.

Eiji came in and Madara rushed him. The other moved out of the way, sidestepping him, but Madara had predicted that move and slashed to his left, ducking underneath a slash with the kunai. Sadly, he didn’t catch Eiji’s footwork quickly enough and missed the other man’s leg come up. He tripped and crashed to the ground with a wince. Not letting himself think about the discomfort, he scrambled back to his feet and turned.

Eiji had a cut in his chest that was dripping blood onto the floor. His face was contorted into one of the angriest snarls that Madara had ever seen. There was a flash of movement, and Madara instinctively crouched. A low _thud_ met his ears and Eiji no longer had a kunai in his hand.

Madara took this opportunity to straighten himself up. _If you don’t do something,_ he told himself sternly, _he’s going to kill you._ At that point, a calmness spread over him. He could do this. He was Madara Uchiha, and this was just a piece of scum. He wouldn’t be taken down by some useless lowlife. He darted forward, jumping into the air and coming down on Eiji with a right hook, aimed at the other man’s temple. Eiji moved to dodge it, but Madara threw out one of his legs at the same time, ramming it into his left side, taking them both down to the ground.

Madara landed on top of Eiji and threw his fist forward, hitting the man’s nose before his senses could come back. He reared back again, wanting to cause as much damage as possible before the other man retaliated. It never made contact, however. He had to dodge a backhanded slap to his cheek, and when he moved backward, Eiji’s arm shot forward and clasped around his neck, stilling him.

Madara coughed loudly as his airway was clenched shut. “How dare a piece of trash from such a pathetic clan slap me,” Eiji growled. He stood up, effortlessly bringing Madara up with him. Madara gasped as an uncomfortable crushing sensation spread down his throat. His feet were dangling in the air uselessly and his entire body felt almost numb. He almost missed a low _click_ from the roaring of blood passing through his ears. His vision had gone blurry, and was getting dimmer and dimmer before it sharpened all over again as a new strength coursed through him. He immediately kicked out and landed a blow to Eiji’s stomach. He heard the breath leave the other man’s lungs and his grip on Madara’s throat slackened. Madara fell to the ground, not quite steady enough to stay on his feet as the other man flew backward, flipping over the chair and destroying the couch as he slammed into the wall, denting it as well.

Madara was gasping for breath as he got to his feet and threw the now open collar to the ground. “Dumbass,” he managed. “Don’t you know that when you fight, chakra is sent to all parts of your body, including the hand that was just wrapped around my neck?”

Eiji scrambled back to his feet, blood running down his face from the impact. His eyes were widened as Madara stalked toward him, relishing this sure victory. He moved to run, but Madara was much faster. He grabbed the man by the back of his neck and swept his legs over Eiji’s shins, slamming him face-first into the floor. Before Eiji could do anything else, Madara had already slammed his foot onto Eiji’s right calf, relishing in the crunch of bones breaking and the scream that followed.

He kicked Eiji over and looked down at him with his arms crossed. “Now, you’re going to tell me what the fuck you did to Hashirama, understand?”

“Uchiha scum,” Eiji snarled at him. Madara grimaced at a wetness on his cheek. Eiji had just spit that at him.

A smile formed on his lips at that and he just sighed, “I really was hoping that you wouldn’t want to cooperate.” He slammed his foot down on Eiji’s left shin, snapping the bones there. “Please, don’t cooperate soon. I would love to break every single bone in your body.” Eiji tried to push himself up, but Madara leaned down and snatched one of his hands from underneath him and grabbed above and below the man’s wrist, turning it sharply until he heard a telltale crack and the shout of agony that followed.

Just as he was about to grab the other wrist, smoke filled the air for a little over a second before it was gone. Madara paused in his attempt, but didn’t look away from Eiji. He felt no killing intent, so he knew that he wasn’t in danger.

“What the hell is going on?” Misty’s voice reached his ears.

Madara smiled at this as he stepped off Eiji and turned to look at her for a moment before he turned and looked down at Eiji once more. “I think that he has either tried to or has killed Hashirama, and has already killed three other people. He attempted to kill me as well. Tobirama was going to be his sixth murder.”

“Is that so?” Misty asked. “Where is Tobirama now?”

“Went to find Hashirama,” Madara said. “If you want, you can go and find him.”

“I was actually here for you,” Misty said. “I’ll go and find Tobirama and his brother in a minute.”

“What did you need?” Madara questioned, wishing that she would just go. His nerves were already shot with the idea that Hashirama was dead. He’d just had a near-death experience himself, and the thought of Eiji trying to kill Tobirama set a rage rolling around in his gut. All he wanted to do was go and find the kitchen knife that was bound to be lying somewhere in this mess of a living room and slitting Eiji’s throat with it.

“I went to speak to Toka about a few things,” Misty said, being sure to be vague. Madara knew that she really meant that she was at the prison to grab the letter that Izuna had written him. “She told me to come here and tell you that there was an attempt on your father’s and brother’s lives. I’m sorry to say that Tajima didn’t make it, but Izuna is mostly unscathed.”

Madara blinked, his breath hitching at this news. He turned to look back down at Eiji, who was laying down on the ground, cradling his broken wrist as he looked up at Madara, a condescending smile on his face. “Looks like I missed one of you fuckers. Can’t get good help these days, can I?”

“You bastard,” Madara said faintly. He snatched Eiji up by his throat, sure to jar his broken bones as much as he could in the process. This monster had killed his father in cold blood. He’d killed his own cousin, and he had just been sitting there with a smile on his face.

“Madara!” Misty shouted at him, causing him to pause. “Don’t kill him yet. There’s valuable information to be gotten.” Madara just sighed and threw him back on to the ground. He landed in a painful heap with a cry of pure agony. It wasn’t enough. He wanted this man to hurt. He wanted him to feel so much pain. He wanted him to feel everything that he deserved. He was about to reach down and break another bone for the hell of it when he felt a large, wet nose at the middle of his back, nudging him.

“What is it, Misty?” Madara growled.

“Go into Tobirama’s room and get something to tie him up with,” Misty instructed. “There’s no point in hurting him anymore. You’re going to need him coherent.”

“Fine,” Madara snarled. “I’ll go and look. You watch him, and if he makes any moves at all…snap his neck.”

“No problem at all,” Misty said, taking a seat and keeping her blue eyes trained on Eiji’s still form.

Madara marched into Tobirama’s room without another word and allowed himself to slump forward. He wouldn’t allow grief to take him over. He could mourn for his father and friend later when everything was said and done. With how things were going now, he honestly didn’t know what was going to happen. He would have to fret over that another time. He had things that he needed to do first.

 

 

Panic overwhelmed Tobirama as he ran through the streets. Hashirama had collapsed. His nerves were getting the best of him as he took a harsh left on the road to the main house and turned right onto a side street nearby. Shu’s Tavern was at the end of the road. It was one of the only bars run by the clan members, and it certainly was the only one that was worth a damn. Tobirama knew that it would be where Hashirama was.

Tobirama skidded to a stop in front of the bar. He rushed inside and noticed that everything was almost too quiet. There was a large group of people encircling a small area next to the bar. Tobirama’s heart sank as he pushed his way through the crowd, snarling at those that didn’t move for him quickly enough. When he made it to the center, his breath just left his body at the sight. His brother was sweating profusely, his breathing was shallow as he twitched. A lone woman with long dark hair was kneeled over him with her hands hovering over his bared chest and stomach.

She was panting heavily as Tobirama kneeled on the other side of his brother. “What’s happening to him?” Tobirama demanded.

“I’ve managed to extract the majority of the poison out of him,” the woman said. Tobirama recognized her face from the healing center of the compound and occasionally on the battle field. She was a medical ninja. “The problem is that some of it has already started to take effect because of how fast it acts. I need to get him to the healing ward immediately if we’re going to save his life.”

“Is he safe to move?” Tobirama questioned.

“Yes,” the woman said. “He’s in more danger over us doing nothing.”

Tobirama situated himself so that he was only crouched down and grabbed under Hashirama’s neck and his knees. “Get onto my back, healer,” Tobirama instructed. The woman looked as though she was going to protest, but when he gave her a look, she went quiet and jumped to his back. He lifted his brother up and pulled him so that he was resting on his forearms instead of his hands and awkwardly made the hand signs for the _Hiraishin._ He was just grateful that he’d marked several important places with this seal and could move instantaneously to nearly any spot in the compound. It was fairly far off, however, and moving three people would be taxing to his chakra, but he didn’t care. This was much more important.

He blinked after he’d formed the signs and when he opened his eyes again, they were standing outside of the large wooden building that was the healing center. “Come in,” the woman said. She jumped off his back and rushed to the door, snatching it open and beckoning him inside. Like Tobirama had to be convinced. He quickly ran inside and through another door, sitting him down on the first cot in sight.

He backed away and allowed the woman to do her job. She rushed outside, yelling that she would be back in a few moments. Tobirama walked forward and grabbed his brother’s hand and grimaced at the heat of it.

“It’s going to be alright,” Tobirama told him quietly, even though he knew that Hashirama couldn’t hear him. “I’ll be back soon. There are a few things that I need to check on first.”

He moved to perform the necessary hand signs again, but before he could go through more than three of them, a puff of smoke blocked out his vision before disappearing, leaving the large form of Misty in its place. He blinked in surprise. “What are—”

“He’s still alive,” Misty said, her voice faint with relief. “Madara will be glad to hear it. Speaking of which, you need to get back to your home.” He heard the clacking feet of the healer rushing back into the room. She didn’t even pay attention to Misty or Tobirama as she rushed to Hashirama’s side and picked his head up. There was a cup filled with something foul smelling. Tobirama grimaced at this, but said nothing as she forced it down Hashirama’s throat. The other man reflexively swallowed it.

“That should stave off the symptoms of the poison until his body is ready to fight it off,” the healer said, breathing heavily as she grabbed the nearest chair and took a seat in it. “I’m guessing that you’re about to go and figure out who did this to him. I’ll stay and watch over him until you can return.”

“Thank you,” Tobirama said as Misty kneeled down and let him hop on top of her. He wrapped his arms around her neck and shut his eyes as the rush of being pulled through a vacuum overwhelmed him. It was less than a second later that he could breathe again. He jumped off Misty and straight into the carnage that used to be his living room.

“What the hell happened?” he asked faintly, looking around. The chair was flipped over, halfway across the room from where it should be, and the sofa was nearly in two. The wall behind it was crumbling with the sheetrock scattered on the ground. Papers were everywhere, and his table had been tipped over on its side. He saw spots of blood covering the ground here and there. His heart dropped at the silence as he looked around.

He heard running footsteps and immediately reached behind him for a weapon’s pouch that was no longer sitting on his waist. “Calm down,” Misty instructed him. “It’s only Madara.”

Tobirama sagged relief as he saw the silhouette of his housemate emerge from the kitchen. He looked bruised and battered, but immediately straightened when he saw Tobirama.

“Are you alright?” Madara demanded as he stalked toward him.

“I should be asking you that,” Tobirama informed him as he got closer. He was able to see bruises marring his visible skin, leaving what was covered entirely to his imagination. He reached forward and rubbed at some drying blood that was on his face.

“I’m fine. How’s Hashirama?” Madara asked. His voice was dark, and Tobirama shuddered at it. This was the tone that the Senju knew of during war. It was filled with such rage and hate that Tobirama wanted to take a step back. This was the all-consuming force of the Uchiha; the hatred that they brought forth on the battlefield. It was the pure killing intent that let Tobirama that someone was going to die if the answer that he gave wasn’t the one that he wanted to hear.

“He’s not dead,” Tobirama said carefully. “He was poisoned, and I’m looking for whoever did this. Misty told me to come here first. I…what happened?”

“Eiji happened,” Madara said curtly. “He’s responsible for this, and…” he sighed and brought his hands up to his face. “He’s killed my father and tried to have my brother killed as well. He tried to kill Hashirama. I was next, and if you couldn’t be converted, he was going to kill you too.”

Tobirama blinked rapidly as his brain tried to comprehend what Madara had just said. As soon as he was done digesting that information, he inhaled deeply and exhaled, falling into his business mode. “Converted to what exactly?” he asked coldly.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Madara admitted. “It’s got something to do with extermination. He wouldn’t tell me more than that, though.”

“Where is he?” Tobirama inquired. He was lower on chakra reserved, thanks to his use of the Flying Thunder God Technique, and didn’t want to waste any more of it on his sensory techniques.

“Tied up in the kitchen,” Madara said. “I didn’t want him bleeding anymore on the carpet.”

“Are you alright?” Tobirama asked him again.

“I already said that I’m fine,” Madara told him impatiently. “We need to—”

“I’m not talking about physically,” Tobirama told him softly. He frowned at him and said, “You just found out that your father was murdered. How are you doing?”

“Horribly,” Madara admitted, his hardened voice cracking. “I’m awful, Tobirama, but we can’t dwell on that right now. I’ll grieve later. We need to figure out who else this creep has killed.”

“Who else?” Tobirama inquired. “What are you talking about?”

“I was supposed to be the fifth,” Madara said. “He was counting on Izuna, father, and Hashirama…there’s one more person.”

Tobirama frowned at this. “Stay out here,” he commanded. “You need to clear your head a little bit, alright. Remember that Hashirama is going to be alright.” He looked over at Misty and said, “Can you go and find my father. Tell him that Eiji poisoned Hashirama and tried to kill Madara. Tell him that I’d appreciate it if he could get down here immediately.”

“Are you insane?” Madara snapped at him. “He might have done all of this!”

“He didn’t,” Tobirama said firmly. “I’m not going to say that he loved me and Hashirama, but he wouldn’t kill off his only two remaining heirs. This is something else entirely.”

Madara looked uncertain, but nodded slowly anyway. “Please, put your collar on, Madara, and go into your room. I’ll come and get you when everything is finished.”

“You can’t—”

“I’ll be fine,” Tobirama said gently. He put his hand on his face and gave him a soft smile. “You’ve had a lot happen to you. I’m not going to let anyone else pick on your right now. Please, just go and stay in your room with your collar on until I come and get you.”

“Fine,” Madara said. He reached up and grabbed Tobirama’s hand, which was still on his face, and squeezed it. “We’ll talk about _everything_ when this is all said and done, alright?”

The look on Madara’s face was sad, but there was also another light to it that made Tobirama fill with hope. “I look forward to it,” Tobirama assured him before he dropped his hand and looked over at Misty, who was staring at them with a slightly tilted head.

“Do you wish for me to go, or are you going to listen to your mate on this?” Misty inquired.

Tobirama felt heat rise to his face in spite of the situation. He sighed and said, “Please go and talk to him.”

Misty nodded and was gone in the next instant. Madara was pointedly not looking at him as he walked closer to the kitchen and knelt down, picking something up from the ground. Tobirama’s eyes widened when he saw Madara’ collar.

“Did you have that one while you were fighting him?” Tobirama questioned.

Madara nodded. Fire burned in Tobirama’s stomach. He knew that he was amazing with or without chakra, but this pissed him off. How dare Eiji attack him while he was basically helpless. He probably thought that it was going to be easy, but Madara proved him wrong. Tobirama let out a small hysterical laugh. “I’m so glad we started training,” he said. Pride consumed him at Madara’s obvious strength.

“Me too,” Madara said as he wrapped the collar back around his neck and clicked it together.

“I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” Tobirama said.

Madara’s lip curled into a half smile. “That’s the second time you’ve told me that today. Do you actually mean it this time?”

“I swear,” Tobirama told him. “Now go and get out of here.”

Madara just nodded as he walked down the hallway and was in his room a moment later. Tobirama slowly walked into the kitchen. He could sense Eiji’s chakra from the other side and he turned on the light so that he could see. Madara had really done a number on him. His face was swollen, nearly beyond recognition; his legs were sprawled out at painful angles, and one of his hands, which were firmly bound with chakra wire was starting to swell and bruise.

“So, Eiji,” Tobirama said calmly as he knelt down in front of him. He clasped his hands together in front of him and patiently waited for the other man to look at him. When he did, his dark eyes were filled with nothing but contempt and hatred. “Do you want to tell me what all you’ve been up to lately?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Told you guys it'd be a quick update! Hope you all liked it!
> 
> *Sigh* I guess I'm getting a little predictable. Quite a few of you guessed the poison part. Oh, well. It's too late now and come up with some huge plot-twist. Sorry for my sub-par fighting scene. I'm still trying to get back into writing them, and it's a work in progress.
> 
> Sooo, who do you think that the other death is? This will make me know if I'm predictable or not.


	21. Riot

Tobirama would give it to Eiji. The man was stubborn. He’d broken every finger on both of his hands, and smashed the bones in his foot after breaking each toe. He’d managed to hold out from the torture. Past his impatience and irritation, he couldn’t help but admire his pain-tolerance. His inner scientist was wondering if he could just possibly test the limits of it.

He decided against it for the moment, knowing that there were much more important things to worry about. Not to mention, when Hashirama got better, he would undoubtedly get on him about the importance of acknowledging human rights. The thought of what his brother was going through caused a fresh wave of anger to rush through him and he kicked at Eiji’s already broken foot. The man howled in pain. Tobirama looked at his sweating face and saw with dismay that he was about to pass out. That wouldn’t do.

He leaned down and patted him on the cheek hard enough to get his eyes to focus in again. “Don’t go to sleep on me, Eiji,” Tobirama purred. “If you do, it’ll be a lot worse for you when you wake up. Now, tell me who this other person that you killed is. The next bone up is your right collar bone.”

Eiji shook his head and Tobirama sighed as he brought his hand down to Eiji’s shoulder and rammed the heel of his hand into the spot just below his neck. The crunch that he heard there was satisfying, but it had nothing on the sharp hiss that Eiji made afterward. “You sadistic bastard,” Eiji groaned. “You’re not better than the damned Uchihas! I’m your clansmen! How can you do this to me?”

“You’re a murderer,” Tobirama told him coldly. “You tried to kill Hashirama. You killed Tajima Uchiha, and you attempted to kill Madara. The Senju are above such acts, and because you committed them, I’m not claiming you as a part of my clan. Who was the other person?”

“It’s too late for them,” Eiji snarled at him. “It’s too late for everyone on my list! Soon, they’ll all be slaughtered, which is how it was supposed to be! Damn you and your entire family for getting in the way of our clan’s revenge!”

Tobirama froze at his outburst as his mind started whirring. He leaned back and sat in front of Eiji, who was still panting harshly, his head tilting back against the wall, laughing softly. “So,” Tobirama muttered. “You’re intending on slaughtering all of the Uchihas. I’m guessing it’s a way of you avenging your dead family. Your parents died in a fair fight. They knew the risks before they went into battle. It’s a bit different than murder, don’t you think? I guess you don’t think so, considering how many people you plan to kill because of it.” His head tilted to the side as a realization came to him. With Eiji’s logic, the only other person to take out would be….

“Damn,” Tobirama cursed as he bit his thumb and began doing the hand signs for his summoning jutsu. He slammed his hand down on the floor and Misty appeared a moment later.

“I was still trying to locate your father,” Misty told him, sounding annoyed. “What do you need?”

“There’s not point,” Tobirama told her. “I’m certain that my father’s already dead.” He said it coldly. There was a pang of regret in his heart at the thought of his last words to Butsuma, but that was about it. Weren’t people supposed to be upset over losing loved ones? Was his father actually a loved one?

He shook himself out of that thought process and looked at Misty. “Please go to Toka. Inform her that we need the head of interrogation here as soon as possible, and that we have a large problem on our hands.”

He jumped to his feet and raced down the hallway to Madara’s room. He didn’t bother knocking and just opened the door. The room’s occupant was laying on his bed in the darkness. His head snapped to the side as soon as Tobirama opened the door.

“What is it?” Madara questioned.

“Get up and get dressed into some proper clothes,” Tobirama ordered. He swore when this was all said and done, he was going to buy this man a whole new wardrobe if only so that he wasn’t stuck in worn robes. “We have somewhere we have to be.”

Madara pushed himself to his feet as Tobirama turned on the lights. Madara was frowning at him in confusion, even as he walked to his closet and began sifting through it. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”

“You’re now the head of your clan, and as of this point in time, I’m acting head of mine until Hashirama wakes up—”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Madara stopped and spun around to look at Tobirama. “Your dad—”

“He’s dead,” Tobirama cut him off curtly. “We have no time to dwell on that. Eiji’s planning something to exterminate your people. We have to stop it before it actually happens.”

Madara froze for a moment, but quickly turned around and began pulling clothing out of his closet even quicker than before. He flung them onto the bed and pulled his shirt off and slid the new one on. He heard a pop from the front room and immediately rushed away from Madara and hurried into the living room.

A tall man with dark hair was standing in the middle of the disaster with Toka. “What the hell happened here?” Toka demanded. Misty was standing behind them, her eyes focused in the kitchen.

“There’s a man in there that you can ask that to,” Misty said.

“I have reason to believe that man killed my father and attempted to kill my brother,” Tobirama said. “We need to get more information out of him. Please try and see what you can find out. I have to leave now.”

Toka and the man both nodded just as Madara rushed out of his room, fully clothed. His hair was still wild, but Tobirama couldn’t be bothered to worried about it. He reached up to Madara’s neck and didn’t bother to be covert about it when he pushed chakra into the collar to unlock it. Both Toka and the other man froze in obvious fear, but Tobirama ignored them and said, “Get on.”

Misty laid down and allowed both Tobirama and Madara to get up. He felt Madara’s arms curl around his waist firmly and he wrapped his arms around Misty’s neck. “Please take us to the Uchiha compound,” Tobirama urged Misty as he closed his eyes.

The cat didn’t say anything as she shot to her feet and teleported them. When he opened them back up, he was standing in a small town, of sorts. It was encircled largely by a huge forest, and Tobirama could make out a rather large wall in the gaps of trees. He jumped off Misty and heard Madara’s feet hit the ground next to him.

Everything was quiet…a bit too quiet. “What the hell is going on here?” he muttered. He looked around slowly until he saw a building on the outskirts of the town a few hundred yards away. It was a bit taller than the rest of the houses, and Tobirama could just barely make out the Senju insignia from where they were.

He turned to Misty and bowed his head. “Thank you for all of your help. You should probably go back to your world for right now and rest in case I need you again later on.”

“Call me whenever you need me, child,” Misty told him before she disappeared in a puff of smoke.

Tobirama snatched up Madara’s wrist and wrenched him in the direction of the Senju building. Someone was bound to be there, and they could fill him in on exactly what was going on. Madara stumbled behind him for a moment before he was moving in the same direction. Tobirama let him go as he jumped on to the roof of the nearest house and looked around. Madara followed him, peering across the landscape as well. No one at all was in sight, which was very strange. It was dark out, however, so there was a good chance that a curfew was set and the Uchiha were in their houses.

Tobirama said nothing as he leapt across the roof and onto the next house. He moved from rooftop to rooftop as quickly as he could. Madara was hot on his heels. At the quick pace that Tobirama set, it was almost no time at all and they were at the edge of the compound. Tobirama opened up the door to the Senju building as though he owned the place and marched inside.

There were three men sitting around a table, looking thoroughly bored. There were cards laying on the top, as though they had attempted to do something to pass the time, but it also became boring. They straightened up and snapped their heads in the direction of the door. When they saw Tobirama walk through, their eyes widened, and they stood up.

“What are you doing here, sir?” one of the guards yelped. Tobirama raised an eyebrow at this behavior. It was almost as though they had something that they were trying to hide. It was probably the fact that they were holed up here and not patrolling the grounds.

“I’ve heard some rumors about something that I need to talk to someone about. Who’s the superior here?”

The man sitting at the back of the table moved around it and walked closer to Tobirama. “I am, sir,” he said. His eyes flickered behind Tobirama and his breath hitched.

“Madara isn’t going to harm you,” Tobirama waved the notion away. “I’m here to inquire about Eiji Senju. Has he been here lately?”

“I haven’t seen him in over a month around here,” the guard admitted. “Is there something wrong?”

“We don’t know yet,” Tobirama said.

The door slammed open. Tobirama spun around just as a young woman rushed in. Her hair was a mess and her armor was in disarray. Her face was cut up and bloody. “We’re in trouble, you guys!”

“What’s wrong?” Madara asked sharply.

The woman stopped short with a terrified squeak.

“Answer his question,” Tobirama ordered. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked at her expectantly. “What happened?”

“The Uchiha,” the woman panted. “They’re getting their collars off somehow, and they’ve started revolting.”

Tobirama and Madara both cursed at the same time. “Get more soldiers out here,” the captain barked at the other two guards as he started toward the exit.

“Wait!” Tobirama called, his heart sinking. This is what Eiji had meant.

The guards paused and turned to look at him. Tobirama sighed, “Don’t kill them,” he ordered. “We need to get this under control with as little deaths as possible. They’ve been manipulated.”

The guards looked unhappy about Tobirama’s orders, but as soon as he glared meaningfully at them, they all nodded and jumped out of the windows and the doorway, leaving him and Madara alone.

“I’ve got to go out there and try to stop this as soon as possible,” Tobirama said. He moved to rush out of the room, but Madara grabbed his wrist before he could and snatched him backward. Tobirama fell against a hard chest. He stiffened and backed away, looking up at the Uchiha curiously. He didn’t have time for this.

“You don’t need to go out there,” Madara told him sternly.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Tobirama demanded. “I’m the head of the clan right now. I can’t just stand by and let everyone else fight this out for themselves. I have to get in there and do my duty. It’s my job to stop this as peacefully as possible.”

“You’re powerful,” Madara said, “but you’re also the son of the man that did this to us. Your looks are very unique. You’re unmistakable, and they’ll slaughter you if they see you. They’re pissed off, and they’ve just got their chakra back. They’re going to be on a warpath to destroy every Senju in sight. I’d kill them if they hurt you, and I don’t want to kill the people that I’m in charge of. Please, just stay out of this for right now until everything is under control.”

“I’m not going to just stand by,” Tobirama swore. He grabbed Madara’s other hand and squeezed it. “I’m not weak. They’ve been without any sort of practice for almost two months. I’ll be fine.”

“Dammit, Tobirama,” Madara snapped. “Please, don’t—”

Tobirama covered the man’s mouth with his hand, cutting him off. “Stop arguing,” he ordered him softly. “Let’s go.”

Madara pulled his hand off his mouth and interlaced their fingers, squeezing it softly. “Be careful,” he murmured, “and don’t stray from my side.”

Tobirama nodded and slid his hand out of Madara’s grip. He turned around and dashed out of the building and could hear Madara racing behind him. From this point, he could hear the sound of people shouting. A large flame lit up the sky from the middle of the compound, and Tobirama couldn’t hold back his curse. This was going to end so badly that he doubted that he would be able to smoothen things over. He sighed. Hopefully Hashirama would wake up soon, and he could handle the back blow, because there was no way that there weren’t going to be repercussions for this. The Senju were going to call for Uchiha blood, and if the Uchiha managed to win this one, then they were going to just slaughter the rest of the Senju. There was going to be absolutely no happy ending to this that he could see.

They jumped over rooftops to get to the center of the compound, and even if they were moving at inhumanly fast speeds, Tobirama felt as though he wasn’t moving fast enough. By the time that they got there, fire was everywhere. It was licking at all of the buildings nearby, and Tobirama had to jump off of the roofs to stop himself from being scorched. Madara stopped beside him on the ground. They were in a small side road, just looking at the battle ensuing in the center.

Senju guards were everywhere, using any jutsu that they could think of while the Uchiha seemed to be hellbent on burning them all down. “We have to stop this somehow,” Tobirama said, wracking his brain for any viable answer. Nothing at all came to his mind short of killing a few from each clan.

Sadly, an Uchiha seemed to notice them after he’d finished a fireball jutsu. His eyes were wild as he turned his attention on them. His gaze was locked on Tobirama as he ran forward with a mad battle cry. Before Tobirama could make any move at all, Madara had stepped out of the clearing, grabbed the Uchiha by the collar of his worn shirt. He spun on the heel of his left foot and rammed the man into the wall of the nearest house.

“You hurt him, you die,” Madara snarled at him.

The man yelped as his entire frame stiffened. Tobirama walked out of the clearing as well and turned to look at the man. His eyes were widened for a moment before he regained his composure. His swirling red eyes were narrowed in rage. “Have you turned traitor?” he hissed angrily.

“Have you turned foolish?” Madara shot back. “There are children here!” He slammed him into the wall hard enough to knock him out. Tobirama saw another Uchiha coming toward him. He ducked under the insane swing and brought his foot out, knocking his opponent’s feet from under him. The shinobi moved to get back up, but Tobirama brought his foot down on the back of his skull with just enough power to knock him out.

I have to put these fires out before they get any further and rage out of control. He knew that he was going to have to use a water jutsu, but it was going to have to be a large one. It would take out nearly all of his remaining chakra. He cursed at the fact that a lot of his was already gone from using the Flying Thunder God Technique earlier that night.

He looked over at Madara and felt nothing but trust. The other man wouldn’t let him die. Before he could talk himself out of it, he already started making the hand signs for the jutsu.

Madara saw him and narrowed his eyes. “What are you—”

He was cut off as a Senju guard rushed him. Madara ducked underneath a kunai slash and elbowed the man in the gut and slapped him away impatiently. He looked as though he was going to start that question again, but it was too late. Tobirama brought his hand up to his mouth and blew as hard as he could, aiming toward the burning buildings. Water shot out at high speeds, soaking everything in its path. It reached rooftops and flooded the center of the compound almost instantly. He heard the sound of people taper off as they all paused and looked around. He heard the sound of people shouting as they moved, trying to get away from the torrent. Tobirama spun around in a circle, dispelling all of the fire that he could see, and soaking the nearby wood so that it would be harder to ignite.

He felt faint as he released the jutsu. He slumped forward, putting his hands on his knees. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and when he looked up, he saw Madara standing over him, looking down at him with wide eyes. They were swirling red, but he could see the concern in them.

“Are you alright?” Madara asked him.

Tobirama nodded. “I don’t have another jutsu like that in me, though,” he admitted. He straightened himself up and looked around. The water was slowly dissipating from where they were. It had been at waist height before, and now it was down to Tobirama’s ankles. He saw curious eyes looking at him and Madara from the side roads.

He inhaled deeply and scowled around at them. “Have you all lost your damned minds?” he snapped as loudly as he could. “What the hell is going on here?”

A guard emerged from the shadows nervously. “They started to revolt, sir. We were just trying to—”

“Uchiha!” Madara shouted so loudly that Tobirama’s ears throbbed and he swayed. “Get out here now! I want all of you gathered in the middle of the compound right now!”

He heard the patter of feet and people began to pour into the clearing moments later. Men and women both looked as though they were children about to get a thorough scolding.

“I have lived amongst you my entire life,” Madara said. “I know that the majority of you have young ones running around. I know that they’re somewhere around this compound right now! How did any of you feel as though it was a good decision to revolt in any form when it might endanger their lives? We have lost enough young ones on the battlefield over the years, and we were about to lose so many more due to fire, of all things. If Tobirama Senju hadn’t put out those fires, they would have all burned!”

Tobirama was silent, wondering how this was going to smooth over. He could only see one peaceful way to resolve any of this. He put a hand on Madara’s shoulder and said, “Please, put your collars back on,” he said.

“Why should we?” an angry man from the front of the crowd demanded. “You’ve kept us all locked up here, humiliated and defeated. You’ve taken the son of the head of our clan and brainwashed him! Why would we ever give into you when we can finally get out of here and exterminate the rest of your vile clan?”

“I have not brainwashed Madara,” Tobirama told him calmly. “You want peace, correct? That’s why you want to kill my entire clan. Peace won over revenge, murder and violence is hardly peace. The only way that either of our clans are going to achieve peace is from mutual understanding. Please, allow me to work this out. I am the head of my clan until my older brother wakes up. Madara is the permanent head of your clan. Allow him to meet with me as a comrade and speak to my clan elders. We can forge out some sort of agreement that makes us all happy!”

“Why would we trust you?” the man demanded. There were shouts of agreement from all over the crowd, and Tobirama wanted to curse. He knew that it wasn’t going to be easy. He couldn’t expect the Uchihas to follow him on blind faith alone, but he didn’t know what else to do to get anything accomplished.

Madara was standing next to him, looking at him with an equally shocked expression on his face. Tobirama sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He inhaled and released his face to look back up at the crowd of angry people. “I love Madara,” Tobirama said. “I’m in love with your leader, and I’d do anything to make him happy. He’s your leader, and I know that he wants to see you all free.”

He didn’t look over to see the man next to him. They hadn’t talked about anything at all yet. He had no idea if Madara reciprocated his feelings or not, but he was desperate. He felt no unease as he spoke the words. They came out naturally, and he knew they were true from the moment that they left his lips. How had it come to this? He really was in love with an Uchiha.

He felt warmth around his hand and looked over to see Madara glaring at his clan sternly. “Look!” he shouted angrily at his people. “We don’t have much of a choice here. I’m going to accept Tobirama’s offer to meet with the elders of his clan and try and hash out a treaty! This is the best way for us to achieve peace, and I will do what is best for our clan, whether you all like it or not. I have not been brainwashed, but I’ve lived with this man the entire time that we’ve been held captive. He’s done nothing but be kind to me. He’s treated me like a human being, and so have a few of the other Senju that I’ve been around. We were at war over hatred, and we should seek out true peace when we have the chance.”

There was silence for a few moments, and Tobirama was afraid that they would refuse. There was no other option that Tobirama could see. If the Uchiha didn’t look as though they were open to a treaty, then there was no way that he would be able to convince the rest of his clan to seek to end all of this hatred through peaceful means. The Uchiha were walking on an incredibly thin line. Most people in his clan wouldn’t think twice about exterminating all of them.

“I guess that I’ll trust you, can’ the rest of you?” the man in the front said finally. Silence rang through the ranks of the Uchihas before quiet murmurs of agreement started to become audible. After a few moments, the decision seemed to be unanimous. Tobirama shouldn’t have been surprised. Madara was one of those men that commanded trust and respect for those that followed him. He was certain that the majority of the people from his clan, if not all of them, would follow him until the end.

“Our collars were destroyed,” another voice shouted from the Uchiha. “There’s no putting them back on.”

“There aren’t enough collars to go around for everyone again,” a guard shouted out from the street. The Senju had been oddly quiet for the entirety of Madara’s and Tobirama’s speeches. “And sir, you said that you were the temporary head of the clan until Hashirama woke up. What’s happened?”

“We had a traitor in the main house,” Tobirama said. “We’ve not been able to find my father, and I believe that he is dead. An attempt was made on Hashirama’s life, but it was unsuccessful, though he is too weak to do anything other than sleep at the moment. Until he is back on his feet, I will be the one in charge of the clan. Does anyone object to that?”

Another guard stepped up. This one was a woman with long, brown hair. She crossed her arms over her chest and gave him a torn look. “You are one of the smartest shinobi ever produced by the Senju. You hated the Uchiha as much as all of us did while we were still at war. If you believe that we can achieve peace through a treaty with the Uchiha, and trust that they will keep up their side of the deal, then I can believe in that. I’m sure that everyone else can try their best to do so as well.”

Tobirama waited for an argument to come forth, but there was none. He fought back the urge to sigh in relief as he turned to Madara with a weak smile. “We did it.”

Madara squeezed his hand as he nodded in agreement, “Yes, we did.”

Tobirama turned and looked at the woman that had spoken in his favor. “Can you please get a message to the clan elders as quickly as possible? I need them here as soon as they can get here. We need to have a conference.”

“One moment,” Madara told her before he turned and looked back at Tobirama. “Are you sure that you don’t want to wait for a little while? You need to rest up. I’m certain that your brother will be able to handle things in a couple of days. It’ll probably be best if the actual head were to demand these terms.”

“Would you be alright with that?” Tobirama asked.

Madara nodded. “Let me summon Misty for you, and we can go back home.”

Tobirama’s eyes widened at this. “You still want to come with me. I wouldn’t begrudge you if you wanted to stay here with your clan.”

“We have a lot to discuss,” Madara informed him with a smile. “I don’t think that we can do that while I’m here and you’re so far away. Besides, I’d like to go and see Hashirama.”

“Tomorrow,” Tobirama told him, “we’ll go and see Izuna.”

Madara’s smile grew even more at that as his hold on Tobirama’s hand tightened. “I’d really like that.”

Tobirama turned and looked at the woman, who was waiting for him to give his final word. “Never mind,” he said. “We’ll wait until my brother is better to start the delegations. He turned and looked at the Uchihas. Can I get your word that no one is going to start anything up while you’re still here?”

“If they do,” Madara called out, “they will be branded as a traitor and heavily punished. Is that understood?”

Tobirama saw them all nod in agreement.

“Okay, then,” Tobirama said. “The same goes for you guards. Be at peace for right now, and go back to what you were doing before all of this started. We’re entering a peaceful stage. Let’s keep it that way.”

He heard a chorus of yes sirs. Satisfied, he turned back to Madara and said, “Let’s go home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it! How do you think the delegations are going to go? Also, how do you think the meeting with Izuna is going to go?


	22. Getting Ready for a Long Day

Tobirama looked exhausted when Misty dropped them off. The snow leopard stayed long enough to sternly tell Tobirama to get some sleep before she was gone. They stood in an awkward silence inside of the wrecked living room for a few moments before Madara finally broke it.

“You really need to get to sleep,” he finally said. “It’s late and you need to be in better shape for tomorrow. We have a lot to do.”

“There’s still so much to do tonight,” Tobirama argued. “I need to go and see Hashirama and make sure that he’s alright, and we have a lot that we need to discuss about us. I just…I want to make sure that it’s all finished before I sleep, or I doubt that I’ll be able to at all.”

“Your brother was stable when you left him, correct?” Madara demanded.

Tobirama nodded. He crossed his arms over his chest, as though in defiance, and said, “It’s still my duty to make sure that his condition has either stayed the same or improved. I can’t just—”

“Your clan has some of the best healers in the Fire Country,” Madara informed him. “Hashirama is in perfectly good hands. Going to see him tonight will do nothing but wear you out even more. He’ll be fine until morning when you’re in better shape. You used a lot of chakra today, and you need rest to replenish yourself. You can go and see him after breakfast tomorrow morning.”

“But—”

“As for the discussion about us,” Madara said slowly as he reached out, grabbed Tobirama’s shoulders and yanked him forward. In his exhausted state, he came easily. Madara pressed his lips harshly against Tobirama’s mouth. It was chaste kiss at first; it came as a need to keep Tobirama for silent for as long as possible so that he wouldn’t argue with him. He felt the man stiffen underneath his hands before he felt Tobirama’s muscles shift underneath his hands and felt the other man grab onto the front of his shirt a moment later, pulling him even closer. Tobirama leaned down for a better angle, and Madara lowered himself back to the floor and slid a hand around until it was clasping the back of Tobirama’s neck. He felt the other’s lips brushing against his softly, and Madara shuddered.

How long had he been craving this? He hadn’t allowed himself to think about it at all, and he didn’t know when he’d gone from not wanting this to denying that he wanted it. He felt something wet sliding against his lips and he complied, immediately opening his mouth. He let out a strangled noise when he felt the other’s tongue moving against his. Was that a whimper?

He sighed as he allowed his hand to raise up and tangle into the white hair that was just above. He knotted his fingers into the locks and felt Tobirama shudder against him when he accidentally pulled on the strands. He gave another experimental tug and couldn’t help but smile when he felt the same sensation. Of course, Tobirama would have a thing for hair-pulling.

He felt Tobirama’s hands release from his shirt and wrap around his waist. One hand was resting on his hip while the other arm curled around and tightened, crushing their bodies together. Madara felt his already racing heart start beating out of control and his head began spinning. Desire was thrumming in his veins. It had been a while since he’d felt like this, and it was exhilarating. He wanted more. He wanted….

_Don’t be selfish,_ he scolded himself as he ended the much too-heated kiss. Tobirama needed rest, and he didn’t feel his best either. They both needed a long night of sleep before tomorrow’s headache started. He pressed his forehead against Tobirama and saw the man’s eyes lazily open and look at him. His cheeks were flushed, and his breathing was ragged. He didn’t release Madara, which was fine by the Uchiha, who was enjoying being held so tightly. It made him feel genuinely wanted, as though the other was frightened that he would disappear if he were to let him go.

Madara wanted this moment to last forever. The peace and bliss that he felt wasn’t like anything that he’d ever experienced. Was this what it felt like to be safe? It was an ease that he’d never known before. He couldn’t help the smile that came to his face. He leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to Tobirama’s lips and activated his Sharingan while his eyes were closed. He parted from Tobirama slowly and opened his eyes up to see Tobirama looking at him. He performed his visual jutsu before the other man could react.

“Sleep soundly,” he murmured. Tobirama stiffened before his eyes rolled to the back of his head, and his entire body went slack. He slumped more firmly into Madara, who immediately adjusted his arms so that he could more properly support the other man.

Madara sighed and pulled Tobirama up so that the man was on his shoulder before he started walking toward his room. He was definitely heavier than he looked.

Once he was in Tobirama’s room, he pulled the blankets back and settled him down before taking off his shoes. Deciding that it would be too much trouble for his tired mind to undress him any further, he covered him up and stepped backward, just looking at his peaceful face for a few more seconds.

He was going to kill him in the morning for using genjutsu on him. Madara just shrugged. It was too late to change it, and he didn’t think that he would. It was best for him to sleep as much as he could. He would withstand the bitching if Tobirama was better when he was up.

He turned around and exited the room, wishing that he could put himself under a visual jutsu to sleep. He stripped down to his boxers, too tired to find anything else to sleep in and threw himself down on the bed, covering himself up. He closed his eyes and prayed for a quick escape from consciousness.

 

 

Tobirama opened his eyes, feeling refreshed. His mind was fuzzy, and he couldn’t remember falling asleep. He looked around with a small frown as his vision cleared. He didn’t remember coming into his room either.

What was the last thing that he remembered.

His entire body warmed up at the memory of Madara’s lips on his. His mind went through the entire experience. He didn’t dislike the happiness that he felt from the experience, but he was a hardened warrior. He shouldn’t have to fight back the urge to smile like a total moron. The urge faded away very quickly, however, when he remembered seeing red, swirling eyes.

“That bastard,” Tobirama growled, sitting up immediately in his bed. He shoved the blankets off him and stalked to his door, wrenching it open. Rage was boiling in his stomach. How dare that Uchiha use his Sharingan on him? He was positively fuming as he wrenched Madara’s door open and marched inside. He was about to shout when he caught sight of Madara on the bed. There was a small frown on his sleeping face as he turned slightly, burrowing his face halfway into his pillow. His features almost immediately relaxed as he seemed to melt into the bed. Tobirama felt his anger involuntarily flow out of him at the sight.

He sighed, knowing that there was no way that he was going to be able to wake Madara up after that adorable display. He just backed out of the room and softly shut the door behind him, being sure not to disturb the peaceful sight. Maybe sometime in the future, he would become immune to it.

He just shrugged and rolled his eyes at the newfound weakness as he walked into the bathroom and began getting ready for the day. A shower would do him immeasurable good, he was certain.

 

Once he was finished in the shower, he immediately started the coffee maker. He might have had the best sleep of his life, not that he would ever tell Madara that, but a morning wasn’t complete without a cup of coffee.

He sighed as he sat down. The morning felt almost too normal for it to be such a strange and urgent one. Everything was quiet, but he figured that it was because it was only the crack of dawn. He was certain that only a few people really knew what was going on, and he wasn’t even sure if he was in that privy group. Everything had happened so quickly the night before, and Tobirama was still reeling as he thought over everything. He’d learned about and stopped a traitor before he could kill more people, deduced that his father had been murdered along with the father of the man that he was in love with. He’d stopped a rebellion, and he’d started making arrangements for true peace between to bitter rivals. The back blow of everything hadn’t had a chance to catch up to him yet, but he was waiting for it. He had no one from the clan to help him yet, and he didn’t know if they would feel very helpful when the situation was explained to them. The only person that he was certain completely supported him was still technically a slave. The only other person that would totally support him had just been poisoned and was most likely too weak to do any sort of political reconstruction.

“You look tense,” Madara’s quiet voice greeted his ears just as the coffee maker went off, signaling that it was ready.

Tobirama turned to look at him. He had shuffled up behind him. Madara leaned down and pressed a small kiss to his cheek, as though without a second thought. “Good morning,” Madara murmured before he straightened up and walked to the coffee pot. He pulled down two mugs from the cupboard and began making their cups.

“You shouldn’t be so kind to me when I’m angry at you,” Tobirama informed him. “You never know when I’m going to lash out.”

“I was halfway expecting you to come barging into my room this morning and attack me,” Madara admitted. “I was pleasantly surprised to wake up on my own. I’d assumed that you weren’t awake yet. Imagine my shock when I realized that I smelled coffee coming from the kitchen.”

“If you knew that I was going to be angry, why did you put me under a genjutsu?” Tobirama asked.

“Because you were tired and too wound up to sleep,” Madara informed him as he turned around and walked to the table with two cups in his hands. He handed Tobirama his, and the younger accepted it with a quiet _thank you_. “I would have asked you before I did it if I weren’t so certain that you would have told me no. I figured that you getting enough sleep for today was worth your certain wrath when the time came for it.”

Tobirama sighed. Just like that, all of the fight that he was hoping to get back up by the time that Madara had awoken diminished. The bastard really knew how to word things so that it was impossible to actually be angry at him. “I trust you, Madara,” he said quietly, “but it’s going to be a while before I trust those eyes. The next time that you feel the need to use them on me, at least mention it to me before you do. You seem to be able to argue with me well enough to convince me to do things that I would normally not do.”

“Very well,” Madara said, “though I’m hoping to never be in this sort of situation with you again. Hopefully, we won’t be exhausted like we were yesterday ever again.”

Tobirama laughed dryly. “I hate to say it, but there’s a chance that today will be even more mentally exhausting.”

“Probably,” Madara agreed. “Let me get some breakfast made, and then we can discuss some of the things that you wanted to talk about last night. I’m sure that you’re much more lucid right now that you were then anyway.”

Tobirama nodded in agreement. Nervousness clogged his throat at the casual mention of the talk that they were about to have. He’d wanted to have it so badly yesterday, but now he was uncertain. He’d had a literal taste of what could be his if Madara agreed to it, but there was a chance that he’d only kissed him yesterday in order to get him distracted enough to put him under the spell of the Sharingan. That thought made his heart ache horribly, but he knew that there was no avoiding the subject.

“Don’t look so nervous,” Madara told him as he pushed himself to his feet. “There’s no reason for you to be nervous.”

Tobirama nodded, feeling more than a little reassured by those words. Madara immediately grabbed the pots and pans out of the cupboard and began to get breakfast started. Tobirama watched him absently for a few minutes, admiring the graceful way that he moved. His entire body was relaxed, as though he was totally calm and there was nothing that could possibly stress him out.

Tobirama had to admire his stoicism. It wasn’t often that he could find someone that was as good at keeping composure when it really counted. God knows his brother wasn’t able to.

It didn’t take long for Madara to whip up a quick breakfast of eggs and toast. He sat down across from Tobirama as he slid him his plate. “I know that you said what you did last night because it was necessary to get a proper reaction out of them,” Madara informed him quietly as he stuck his fork into his eggs. His eyes were cast down to his plate. Tobirama didn’t know what the man was feeling because his voice was so even. “I don’t expect you to say that you love me. That’s alright. I’m not upset over it.”

“That’s the thing,” Tobirama replied, being sure to keep his voice even as well. “I’ve never felt this way about anyone else before. You’re the first person that I’ve ever wanted to be around constantly. I feel truly comfortable around you. I’m not sure if it is love, but that’s what I think it is.”

Madara’s head snapped up at that, and he looked at Tobirama with wide eyes. The slip in his composure didn’t last for very long. His face folded back into its calm façade a moment later, and he said, “I don’t want you to say that to me until you know for sure. Just let me know when you find out. This is all new to us, and I don’t want to ruin anything with hastily said words that aren’t real.”

“I’m not hasty to anything,” Tobirama said automatically, but he smiled to let him know that he wasn’t insulted. “I believe you’re right, however. We can look more into that path later on. Just for clarification,” he said, just because he really did need to make sure that they were on the same page, “you want to try this…you want to try us?”

Madara nodded. “I do. I think that we could work.”

Tobirama nodded and repressed a sigh of relief from hearing those words. This was it; this was his chance to be truly happy. He smiled at Madara for a few more moment, one that Madara returned, before he looked back down at his food. He didn’t know when it happened exactly, or who even initiated it, but sometime during their silent breakfast, their free hands traveled to the middle of the table and clasped together firmly. Tobirama couldn’t say that he minded the sensation of touching Madara without any other motive than affection. His skin was warm and comforting, something that he hadn’t been able to truly appreciate until now.

 

Tobirama felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he entered Hashirama’s room at the infirmary. His brother’s eyes were opened as he and Madara entered. His lips curled into a tired smile at the sight of them, something that also made Tobirama’s heart lighten. If Hashirama was still able to wear a smile on his face, things couldn’t be that bad for him.

“How are you feeling?” Tobirama asked him as he took a seat next to his chair. He felt Madara standing behind him, most likely looking down at his best friend in concern.

“Pretty bad,” Hashirama admitted, still smiling. “It could be worse, though, I’m sure. I’m sorry that I didn’t take your warning to heart like I should have. A very kind woman that I’m not conscious enough to remember the name of told me that I was poisoned. I hate to ask, but was it by Eiji?”

“Yes,” Tobirama replied. “He poisoned you and tried to kill Madara next. Don’t worry, though. We have him in custody, and he’s being interrogated by the head of the T&I department. I’m going to visit them at the jail after I leave here.”

Hashirama’s eyes snapped to Madara next. “Are you alright?” he asked him.

“I’m fine,” Madara assured him. “Focus on getting yourself healed up. You have a lot to do when you get better.” Tobirama felt Madara’s hand on his shoulder. The Uchiha squeezed it gently before he said, “I’m going to step outside and leave you two alone for a little while.” Tobirama looked up and saw the older man’s back as he walked out of the door and shut it behind him, leaving him and Hashirama alone.

“What was that about?” Hashirama asked Tobirama with a frown. “Is there something so private that Madara can’t be here while we discuss it?”

“It’s more out of respect,” Tobirama told him quietly. “I have some bad news for you.”

“What kind of bad news,” Hashirama asked.

“I need you to be strong for me,” Tobirama told him, ignoring his question entirely. “It’s very bad news, but you can’t react badly to it, understand? You have to stay strong and composed.”

Hashirama looked at Tobirama nervously before he slowly nodded. “Honestly, brother, I don’t think I have enough energy right now to react badly to anything.”

“I know,” Tobirama assured him. “If it wasn’t dire, I’d wait until you were better to say anything at all.”

“What is it?” Hashirama inquired.

“Father is missing,” Tobirama told him. “I believe that he has been killed by Eiji. Our entire family is on his hitlist along with all of the Uchiha. It was some insane attempt at retribution for his parents.”

Tobirama saw that Hashirama was visibly trying his best to stay calm. His lower lip was jutted out, and his eyes were shiny, as though he was fighting back tears. “I…I’m alright,” he said after a few moments, his voice still steady. “I’m alright. As long as you’re safe, and you stay safe, I’ll be alright.”

“I’m fine,” Tobirama informed him, “and I plan on being alright for a long time. I know that it hurts, but you can see why you have to be strong, correct? You’re now the leader of our clan, and they can’t see you weak at a time like this.”

Tobirama saw his brother inhale deeply and exhale slowly. He looked visibly calmer, and his eyes turned steely with determination even in his exhausted state. “Is that all that’s gone on?” Hashirama asked.

“No,” Tobirama said. “Let me get Madara back inside, and we’ll explain everything else to you. While you’re recovering, I’m acting as temporary head. I’ll do as you instruct me to after you’ve heard everything.”

Hashirama nodded and Tobirama pushed himself out of his chair and opened the door. He stuck his head outside and saw that Madara was leaning against the wall next to him with his arms crossed over his chest. A light scowl was on his face as he pointedly ignored a small woman that was looking at him with horrified eyes. She immediately looked at Tobirama, her face paling even further. He just ignored her and turned back to the Uchiha. “Get in here, Madara,” Tobirama said to him. “We have a lot to talk about.”

Madara nodded curtly and followed him back inside, slamming the door behind him. Tobirama heard the woman outside squeak, obviously not expecting the loud noise.

“Eiji has been up to a lot lately,” Tobirama said.

Madara grunted in agreement as he took the seat that Tobirama had given up. “That asshole has a lot to answer for.”

“Let me know everything,” Hashirama said. He nestled further into his bed, as though he was trying his best to get ready to hear the worst possible news.

 

It took longer than Tobirama thought that it was going to take to explain everything that had happened. He knew that it had felt like a lot in one night, but twisting a tale of suspicious acts, traitorous deeds, and guilty actions made Tobirama realize all that he’d been through. Hashirama looked horrified as they finished off, assuring him that everything was alright where they were at.

“Let me just make sure that I understand everything,” Hashirama said quietly. “He might have murdered our father, he attempted to kill me and Madara and was going to kill you if you weren’t _converted_ correctly. He arranged for Tajima’s murder, and had arranged for Izuna’s, but was unsuccessful. He, then, managed to somehow manipulate the Uchiha into attempting to start a rebellion, that happened last night, just as you guys got to the compound. It was a narrowly missed slaughter on both ends. Goodness, I’m certain that you two did your best to calm everything down, but tensions over there have to be unsightly. We have to do something to calm things completely before another fight breaks out, and we’re back at war.”

“What do you propose?” Tobirama inquired.

“I want you to go to the prison and ask the head of T&I about the information about Eiji. I need you and Madara here for the delegations that are going to happen tomorrow at the latest. Get Izuna from the prison, and inform him and Toka that they are to be the ambassadors to the Uchiha. Tell Izuna that he is to get them to warm up to Toka as much as possible, and Toka is to try her best to smoothen things over with them as much as possible. She is to try her best to keep the guards out at the compound on a leash, and have them all be cordial to each other. Tobirama, you are to be in charge of sniffing out the men in our ranks that were loyal to Eiji and were behind these events.”

“The interrogators would have already have gotten those names,” Tobirama informed Hashirama with a frown. “There’s not a need for us to dig any deeper than that, is there?”

“Yes, there is,” Hashirama said. “I want you to find those men and talk to them. Figure out why they did what they did. There’s a good chance that Eiji resorted to blackmail. He had a higher status than most of the guards and had a lot of weight to throw around.”

“Betrayal is betrayal,” Tobirama argued. “They should be punished regardless. You can’t be seen as weak right now.”

“Being understanding and begin weak are two different things,” Hashirama said. “If their families were threatened by someone that could actually make a reality out of their words, then their actions are more understandable. Why would you ever pick someone that you’ve never spoken to before over the people that you spend most of your time with. When you truly care about someone, they come first, and that’s okay. They’ll be punished, of course, but not of the same severity as a full traitor. If you’re uncertain of whether they are telling the truth, send them to be interrogated to find out for sure. I don’t want to execute someone that was trying to protect what is most precious to them.”

“Are you alright with this, Madara?” Tobirama questioned, turning to look at the seated Uchiha.

Madara nodded slowly. “Your brother is correct. People should not die for protecting their families. I’m certain that you will be able to figure everything out, Tobirama.”

“Good, then we’re all on the same page,” Hashirama said. “I don’t mean to rush you two, but these things need to be taken care of as quickly as possible. Please find out any information that you can, and come and see me again in the afternoon for a report. I’ll most likely have more for you to do after I’ve heard what you have to say.”

“Alright,” Tobirama said as Madara got to his feet. “Rest as much as possible before this afternoon, then brother.”

Hashirama smiled at them and waved as they walked out of the door.

“Alright,” Tobirama said as he brought his thumb to his lips and bit down. “Are you ready to go and see your brother?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, you guys already know what's coming next! How do you think Izuna's grand entrance is going to go? Good? Bad? A mix between the two?


	23. Izuna

The jail was a dark, dismal place from the outside. It was made of dark, dingy stone, overgrown with moss. A wrought iron fence encircled the entire building and was topped with a generous amount of barbed wire. The yard was made of concrete, which Madara figured was a way to keep earth style jutsu users from being in their element.

“You guys really know how to make people feel welcome,” Madara muttered. His clan’s own prison hadn’t been a happy place, but it didn’t look as bad as this did.

“Our leaders believe that prisoners should get no other reprieve than the fact that they are alive,” Tobirama shrugged. “Why would any of us go out of our way to make them comfortable?”

Madara shrugged at that. He couldn’t argue with that logic. His gut clenched at the thought of his younger brother being inside of a place like that, however. Maybe the inside was in better condition.

Tobirama walked past the iron gates, nodding toward the guards that was standing at the entrance. Both of them nodded back, and one asked, “New prisoner, sir?”

“No,” Tobirama replied. “Madara Uchiha is not a prisoner. He’s visiting here as a companion.”

The man’s eyes widened and Madara saw him turn and blatantly look Madara up and down. “Is there a problem?” Madara asked tonelessly.

“N-no,” the man finally stuttered. “No problem at all!”

Tobirama just sighed and walked forward. He pushed the doors open and stepped inside. Madara immediately followed after him. The first thought that ran through his head was _This is so not better than the outside._ If anything, the inside looked worse.

No electricity ran through the building. Torches were lit everywhere, and a damp chill stuck in the air, penetrating through Madara’s clothes and permeating straight to his bones. He fought back a shiver as he and Tobirama moved further inside.

Cells were everywhere, wrapping around the walls in a circle, moving up over three stories. There was a constant murmur of noise, broken every other heartbeat by a loud shout or an angry curse. A foul odor disturbed his senses and made him gag slightly. It was the stench of hundreds of unwashed bodies.

“Do you not allow these men to bathe?” Madara demanded.

“Of course, we do,” Tobirama said. “But it’s not like our guards care enough to force them. Honestly, do you think it’s very safe to leave one’s self exposed for that long. Most people would rather deal with the stench.”

“It’s revolting,” Madara informed him, covering his nose with his arm. “Honestly, I can’t imagine anyone allowing someone to stay in such inhuman conditions.”

“These are traitors and murderers,” Tobirama said. “They’ve committed serious crimes against the village, and are being held for it. They deserve a lot worse than just laying around and having others care for them.”

“Then just kill them and get on with it,” Madara snapped.

“It’s not that simple,” Tobirama said. “Besides, I don’t need to hear human rights activism from you right now. We’re here on a mission, and we need to get it done as soon as possible.”

A mental image of his brother appeared in his mind’s eye and he cringed at the condition he must be in. “Where is my brother?” Madara questioned. “He’s not out here with these men, is he?”

“He’d be safe out here,” Tobirama informed him dryly. “None of these prisoners have any love for the Senju Clan. I’m certain that he’d probably be considered a friend to most of them. But, no, he’s not out here with them. He’s a political prisoner. He’s in the basement.”

Madara felt the blood drain out of his face at that comment. “It’s not like we’re torturing him,” Tobirama sighed. “He was writing to you, after all. He’s fine, or I wouldn’t have suggested that you come with me.”

He grabbed Madara’s shoulder and pushed him until he was turned to the left. “This way, Uchiha.” He waited for Tobirama to get in front of him, and then followed him across the room. He heard dozens of prisoners calling out toward them as they walked by. He was called quite a lot of insulting names. The only time that he flinched and nearly went after one of the prisoners was when they called Tobirama a _good-for-nothing bastard_.

He was halfway to the cell of a greasy, bald man that needed to shave a scraggly beard when he felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder and pull. He skidded backward and would have fallen if Tobirama wouldn’t have wrapped an arm around his back and held him steady.

“Quit being foolish,” Tobirama told him calmly. “Ignore them and let’s be on our way.”

“They just called you—”

“I’m not deaf,” Tobirama said. “I also heard one of the idiots try and proposition you a few cells back. I’m trying to get out of here before I go and bash his face into a wall until he’s unable to speak. Now let’s go and do what we were sent here to do.”

“Fine,” Madara grunted after a moment. Tobirama released him and turned around, walking a bit more quickly than before. Madara followed after him, and tried his best to block out all of the comments that were being shouted after them. These people were _horrible_ , and had no sense of decency. Though Madara guessed he could understand where that was coming from if they were left to rot in this shithole. That didn’t mean that he was alright with them speaking to Tobirama the way that they were. He just bit his tongue, however, and went with it.

There was a door at the back of the room, and he saw a large stone staircase that led up and down. Tobirama didn’t say anything as he walked, being careful to stay away from the torches that were lighting the way down. Madara followed, grateful, for once, that he was shorter than Tobirama was. He missed the lights easily.

The staircase was only one flight, and they descended them quickly. They ended up in a dark, open room. There were torches flickering everywhere, but it didn’t keep off the dampness in the air. It was a little colder down here than it was upstairs, and Madara had to fight back the urge to cross his arms over his chest to keep himself warm.

“What are you doing here, cousin?” Toka asked. She was walking over from a door that was on the back part of the area. There was an empty tray in her hand, probably Izuna’s breakfast tray.

“I’m here to bring him to Izuna,” Tobirama replied. “Can you show him the way? I need to go back up and talk to Itsuki about Eiji.”

“No problem,” Toka said. “He’s not going to turn insane and try and kill me as some sort of attempt to free his annoying little brother, is he?”

“No,” Tobirama said, “because as of about twenty minutes ago, Izuna Uchiha was released as a prisoner. I’m sure that you two can break the happy news to him.”

Toka’s dark eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly schooled her expression. “Are you serious? Who freed him? We’re not going to get backlash about this, are we?”

“Considering our newest clan leader did this, I’d hope not,” Tobirama said. “Hashirama commanded it when Madara and I visited him at the infirmary this morning. I’m going to go and talk to Itsuki, and then I’m going to come back down here and speak to both you and Izuna.”

Toka nodded and Tobirama looked over at Madara. Madara saw his expression soften and he said, “Go and enjoy some time with your brother. I know you’re anxious to see him after so long.”

“Are you sure that you don’t want to wait, and we can go and see Itsuki together?” Madara questioned.

“I’m sure,” Tobirama said. “I don’t want to be in the same room as you two during your reunion and dampen it any. Go and see him.”

“Tobirama—”

“Go and see him,” Tobirama repeated before he turned around and walked back up the staircase, away from Madara and Toka.

Once he was out of sight, Madara sighed and turned to look at the pretty brunette, who’d turned to look at him. Her one visible eyebrow was raised questioningly. “What?” he snapped at her.

“What’s going on in between you two?” she asked. The corner of her lips twitched as she crossed her arms over her chest and looked him up and down. “Don’t try and tell me nothing either. He doesn’t give just anyone a look like that. Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve _ever_ seen that look on his face.”

“It’s none of your business,” Madara told her gruffly. He wasn’t going to tell anyone anything at all until he could speak to Tobirama. He didn’t know if there was a point in that after what the younger man had said the night before, but no one was going to hear it come out of his mouth.

Toka chuckled but said nothing else as she led him toward the door. When they were almost there, Madara grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. She stiffened and slowly turned to look at him. “What?” she questioned.

“Izuna doesn’t know that Tobirama is the person that has kept me since all of this started Just, do me a favor and don’t mention him yet. I…I just…I want to break it to him gently. He’s not Tobirama’s largest fan.”

“I’m aware,” Toka said. “I can keep it a secret for a little longer.”

She walked forward and opened the door. Madara followed behind her and heard her say, “You have a guest, Uchiha.”

Madara stepped into another room. This one was a good size, and had a lone cell at the back. It was metal all around, encasing a bed, sink, toilet, and his brother. Izuna was standing in the middle of his cell, looking at Toka with a frown. “Who would be here to see m….” he trailed off as Madara walked through the doorway.

He smiled at the way that Izuna’s eyes widened and jaw dropped. “You should close your mouth, little brother,” Madara informed him. “You look like an idiot.”

“Madara,” Izuna said hoarsely, taking a step toward the edge of the cell. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“To see you, of course,” Madara told him.

Toka wordlessly walked over to the cell and unlocked it. Izuna didn’t wait for permission to rush out. Madara saw a blur and then his brother was on him. He was tackled to the ground and embraced by what felt like a boa constrictor. Izuna was wrapped around him so tightly, that Madara felt as though he couldn’t breathe, and the only way for him to move would be to hurt his younger brother, so Madara just lay there and allowed Izuna to attempt to squeeze the life out of him. He saw Toka move to the door and closed it behind her as she walked out.

“Izuna,” Madara grunted after a moment. His voice was hoarse and choked. “Can’t…breathe!”

“Shit,” Izuna cursed as he scrambled off Madara and got to his feet. He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly as he held a hand out to Madara and helped him to his feet. “I’m sorry, man. I was just in shock. I can’t believe you’re actually here. What…how are you even here?”

“It’s one hell of a long story,” Madara said, “and it’ll all be explained in time. Just…tell me how you’ve been. You smell…not horrible, which is relief.”

Izuna raised and eyebrow at him, but smiled after a moment. “Yeah, I bathe. There’s a privet bathroom down here that Toka allows me to use.” He smirked, “Told you that I was growing on her.”

Madara seriously hoped that was true, because they were going to be seeing a lot of each other over the next few days, and it would go along a lot smoother if they were chummy.

Izuna’s smile faltered after a few moments. “I really am happy to see you, big brother, but it doesn’t make any sense. What’s going on?”

“Look,” Madara said, “Just wait for a few minutes. When everyone gets back inside, we’ll talk about everything.”

“Who all are we waiting for?” Izuna questioned. “This can’t all be a coincidence. Dad just died, and I was almost killed myself. It was organized by someone, I know it was, and now you’re here…Madara what the hell is going on?!”

“Izuna,” Madara said, “Please just calm down. Everything is going to be explained very—”

He cut himself off as the door to the room opened again. “Sorry to interrupt your meeting boys,” Toka said, “but he’s back and we need to get this talk over with.”

“Who?” Izuna demanded, looking in between her and Madara.

Toka whistled and stepped father into the room, a smug grin on her face. “You didn’t tell him yet. _This_ should be good!”

Izuna’s head started moving even faster back and forth between Madara and Toka, and he was afraid that his younger brother was going to get a bad case of whiplash if he continued to do so. Without even thinking about it, Madara moved forward, coming in between Izuna and the doorway. His gut instinct was already telling him that this was going to be horrible. He moved into place just before Tobirama stepped into view.

Izuna’s eyes widened at the newest arrival. Madara looked over and saw that Tobirama looked tired and weary. He looked pretty bad. Either Itsuki hadn’t given him good news, or it was good news that meant a lot more work for them. Tobirama was already visibly weary, and he didn’t need Izuna adding onto his stress, which is exactly what was going to happen.

“What _the hell_ are you doing here?” Izuna snarled at Tobirama.

Tobirama’s expression didn’t change at Izuna’s obvious hostility. He just looked blankly between him and Madara. “We have a lot to talk about, so could you just—”

“We have nothing to talk about,” Izuna snapped at him. “Just go, and get away from me and my brother. Your entire damn clan has done enough. We don’t need to add the ice prince to the mix in order to fuck ourselves up even more.”

Madara whirled around and looked directly at his brother, pointing a finger straight at his chest. “Don’t talk to him like that, Izuna! He’s done nothing to you, and he hasn’t said anything out of the way to you. He isn’t a bad person like the rumors make him out to be! Now just shut up and—”

“Are you listening to what you’re saying?” Izuna demanded. He pointing over Madara’s shoulder, acting like a three year old, directly at Tobirama. “That’s not Hashirama Senju, your best friend, that’s Tobirama Senju, the emotionless prick that nearly killed me. The man that has killed over a hundred of our clansmen! You’re not actually standing up for him, are you? Have you lost your mind, Madara?”

“I _am_ standing up for him, and you _will_ treat him with respect,” Madara snarled at him. “Now be nice!”

Izuna looked over Madara’s shoulder and over at Tobirama accusingly. “You have him under some sort of jutsu, don’t you?! You’ve made him lose his mind! Release it! Fucking release it, and give me my brother back!”

He heard a sigh and turned to see Tobirama with his hand on his face, over his eyes, as though he’d just smacked himself on the forehead out of frustration. “We really don’t have time for you to be acting like a blithering idiot, Izuna. No, your brother isn’t being held under some sort of jutsu. I’m not your enemy. If you’d just calm down for a minute and let us explain—”

“Don’t try and act like you’re an ally!” Izuna snarled at Tobirama.

Madara felt himself snap in frustration and grabbed the front of Izuna’s ratty shirt and snatched him forward so that they were face to face. “Shut the hell up, Izuna,” Madara growled at him. “Quit insulting him, or so help me, you’ll wish that you were still in that cell!”

Izuna’s eyes widened at that. “Is he…are you two….” He trailed off helplessly, unable to look away from Madara. “No,” he whispered. “Madara…you fell for _him_ , of all people?”

“Listen to me, damnit,” Madara hissed. “That man saved my life when he didn’t have to. He went out of his way to make sure that I was comfortable, and felt like I was more than a piece of fucking trash! He was the one that suggested that you and I stay in contact with each other by letters, and used his own summon to make it happen. Tobirama is a good man, and I don’t think I’ll ever find a better one out there. Before you say another thing wrong about him, you’d better get to know him first and have something to back what you say, or I’ll slap the taste from your mouth.”

“Don’t get into a fight with your brother on my account,” Tobirama told Madara quietly.

“Shut up,” Madara snapped back at Tobirama as he let go of Izuna and whirled toward the white-haired man. “He should have known a long time ago when we started sending letters! You didn’t want to upset him, and look where it’s getting us! Wasting time on pointless shit that should have been handled a long time ago!”

“As much as I love to hear stupid men argue about stupid things,” Toka said dryly, “we still have a lot of information to go over, so we need to start as soon as possible!”

“Toka’s right,” Tobirama said as he stepped further into the room and shut the door behind him. “I already talked to Itsuki, and he’s going to tell the guards at the prison the news that’s been discovered, and they’ll spread the word to the rest of the Senju clan. Right now, though, that’s more on the unimportant side of things. If Izuna can just ignore that I’m the one speaking for right now, I’m sure that we can get through all of this in less than ten minutes.”

Izuna scowled, but said nothing. His stance relaxed slightly as he crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Tobirama. Madara felt himself relax and moved from in between Tobirama and his brother.

“Alright. As of right now, I’m acting as temporary head of the Senju clan, taking orders from our newest head member, Hashirama. Itsuki informed me that Butsuma Senju was murdered before Eiji left to go for drinks with Hashirama, and a guard disposed of his body in a river not far from our compound. Itsuki has already sent guards out early this morning to search for him. They’ve not been back yet, but it’s only a matter of time. Hashirama’s first order as head of the clan was to release Izuna from prison. He is trying to delegate peace between our clans.”

“Peace?” Izuna questioned. “Are you serious? Do you honestly expect our clan to just go along with this after the injustice that was brought upon them by your clan only a couple of months ago? We were humiliated, Senju! There’s no way that peace will ever be possible!”

“Really?” Tobirama inquired. “What do you propose, then? Would you prefer for your clan to be locked back up, and for the humiliation to continue? Or would you prefer to be released and just go back to bloody war again? Those are the only two other options that I see. Peace is the only route that is going to bring happiness among us!”

“You expect us to forget all of the lives that were taken at the hands of the Senju?” Izuna demanded.

“Quit acting as though your clan was the only one to take losses,” Tobirama snapped at him, visibly losing his patience. “Both sides have lost thousands since this war began! Peace is the sure way to happiness. Tell me, Izuna. If continuing this pointless war is so important to you, then I want you to inform me on why this damn war began in the first place.”

Izuna was silent. He gave no answer, though his scowl was still in place.

“You can’t answer me because you don’t know why. No one does! We’ve been at war for centuries, and no one can remember why we even started battling! What reason is worth this many lives? What reason is there to fight for this long, to make ourselves and our children go through constant hell?”

Izuna remained silent as Tobirama won him over with logic.

“Let’s put the thought of revenge and retribution behind us. Enough blood has been spilled in the name of pointless hatred. The only thing that this war has brought on is pain and loss. No one wants to lose anyone else, so let’s strive toward peace with each other.”

Izuna turned and looked at Madara, as though wanting help with a proper response. Madara chuckled dryly at his expression. “He’s hard to argue with, isn’t he?” Madara questioned. “Don’t feel too putout, making people feel stupid is a gift of his.”

Izuna just sighed and looked toward Tobirama again. “Fine, let’s say that I agree with you, and would like to attempt peace. How do you propose starting that?”

“Hashirama wants you and Toka to become ambassadors of sorts. The Uchiha are still at their compound at the edge of our territory. A rebellion was attempted last night, and was only just prevented from going into a full-blown riot by your brother and myself. Eiji used a Hinge to make himself look like one of your clansmen, and convinced them to revolt. It was an attempt to give the Senju an excuse to kill the rest of the Uchiha. Things over there are still really tense, and a fight could break out at any minute and shoot us straight back into a war. In order to prevent that, he has asked that you and Toka go out there and try and smoothen things over on both sides. Do you think that you could handle that for us?”

Izuna shrugged. “I guess I could,” he said. “It’s not going to be easy, though. I can do my best.” He looked over at Toka and grinned, “I know I must have bugged the hell out of you the entire time that I’ve been here. I’m not going to apologize, though. You really are hot. Are you alright with working with me?”

“I can manage that,” she said, “but if you step out of line, I won’t hesitate to beat the hell out of you.”

Izuna’s grin widened and Madara sighed. “I don’t know if I’d do that,” he told Toka. “He’s liable to like it.”

“You’re incorrigible,” she informed Izuna, but her mouth was twitching, as though she was trying her best to hold back a smile. She turned and looked at Tobirama. “Do you think that you could help us out and convince Misty to get us there quickly?”

Tobirama nodded. He turned and looked at Madara. “You and I are going to be here for a little while longer, if that’s alright with you. There are a few guards that I need to talk to around here for Hashirama. I might need the help of your Sharingan if you’re up to it.”

“Of course,” Madara said. “All you have to do is ask.”

Izuna’s upper lip curled at his answer. He looked at Tobirama and said, “I still think you have him under some sort of jutsu. He’s never this nice to anybody.”

Tobirama actually smiled at that. “Don’t worry. He’s not always this nice to me and is extremely stubborn at the best of times.”

Izuna snorted and rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you understand the _half_ of it, Senju. He’s so bullheaded, that sometimes all you want to do is ram his head against the nearest hard surface in an attempt to knock some sense into him, but you know that it won’t work, so there’s really no point in trying.”

“Trust me,” Tobirama said, “I know what you mean. I’ve tried to knock some sense into him a couple of times, and—”

“We have a busy day today, remember?!” Madara snapped loudly, cutting both of them off. The last thing that he needed was both of them ganging up and complaining about him. If they kept this up, they’d be fast friends in no time, and the thought was horrifying to say the least.

 

 

It had been a horribly long day. Tobirama was exhausted when he finally collapsed on the couch of his home. It was past midnight after he’d spoken to Hashirama, and had been told to go home and rest. Interrogating all of the guards that Itsuki had managed to drag out of Eiji’s mind. Eiji had put up a lot of resistance, and it had been hard to get anything out of him at all. Flashes of identities of guards had been all that Itsuki had been able to get. Mind jutsu were the specialty of the Yamanaka clan, so they were lucky to have anyone with an affinity of that style, even if they weren’t the best.

Madara was still fuming when they got back. The majority of the guards hadn’t been very cooperative, especially when they saw Madara. They’d accused Tobirama of being a traitor and had immediately turned hostile. The last guard interviewed had been the worst one. He’d thoroughly insulted Madara and then had started it up with Tobirama. The guard had managed to get one insult out of his mouth about the Senju and started on another one, implying that he was a piece of trash, and Madara had snapped. He’d jumped on the man and had landed a solid hit on his face before Tobirama had pulled him off and threw him across the room, into the opposite wall. He’d landed on the ground in a heap. He’d hit fairly hard.

“Madara,” Tobirama sighed softly. The Uchiha had begun pacing agitatedly across the room, back and forth rapidly. He paused for a few moments before he started pacing again.

“Madara,” Tobirama repeated again more forcefully. Madara spun around and looked at him. His dark eyes were lit up with frustration. Tobirama pushed himself up from the couch and walked over to him. “Please calm down,” he told him. “I just want you to calm down and look at me.”

“I am looking at you,” Madara grunted.

“I’m sorry for throwing you,” Tobirama murmured. He cupped Madara’s face in his hand and rubbed his cheeks with his thumbs. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” He kissed Madara softly on both of his cheeks. He heard Madara release a low breath.

“I was out of line,” Madara muttered. “I’m not angry at you…I just can’t get what that asshole said to you out of my mind. You’ve already been talked down to so much, and I can’t stand the thought of you being put down anymore.”

“I don’t care about what they have to say,” Tobirama said. “You care about me, and don’t think little of me at all. That’s all that matters to me.”

Madara didn’t say anything, but the scowl on his face didn’t disappear either.

“Come here,” he said and pulled Madara into a hug, cradling the back of his head so that it went to his shoulder and rested there. He felt Madara’s warm breath ghosting on his neck as the older man wrapped his arms around him as well. “Let me get a look at your back and then we can get some sleep.”

“I’m fine,” Madara told him. “You need to get to sleep. You’re exhausted.”

“I’ll sleep sooner if I can look at your back,” Tobirama told him as he released Madara. He put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him toward the couch. Madara sighed, but he let him push him anyway. Tobirama had him sit down on the end of the soft and reached down to grab his shirt. Madara gave him a look, but still allowed him to remove the garment.

Tobirama sat beside him and Madara turned so that Tobirama could see his back. A bruise was starting to form on one shoulder blade and it spread down midway. Tobirama felt his heart pang at the sight. He’d caused this. He leaned forward and kissed his shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” he murmured. He saw goosebumps spread down Madara’s back and couldn’t suppress a smile at the sight of it. He trailed a couple more kisses across the mark before he raised his hand and started pushing healing chakra into his palm. He placed one last kiss right in the center of the mark before he laid his hand against his back and allowed his chakra to seep in and repair the damage that he’d done.

The bruise faded very quickly, and was gone in a matter of a couple of minutes. Madara sighed as Tobirama pulled his hand away. The elder turned back around and Tobirama felt a hand on the front of his shirt. His eyes widened as he was dragged forward, but they shut immediately as Madara’s lips fell against his. Their lips moved against each other’s softly, and Tobirama felt himself melt a little under Madara’s gentle ministrations. It was a lazy, tender feeling that Tobirama was quickly becoming addicted to while he was simply touching the other.

Madara broke the much too-chaste kiss much too quickly for Tobirama’s tastes and quietly said, “Thank you.”

“I was the one that caused them,” Tobirama informed him just as lowly. “It’s only right that I heal them. You’ve been injured too many times under my watch. I should have watched my strength when I pushed you away.”

“It’s all over now,” Madara said. “Let’s just put this behind us and get some rest. The delegations are supposed to be tomorrow.”

“Agreed,” Tobirama said as he finally moved away from Madara and got to his feet. Tomorrow was going to be a day full of arguing, and he wasn’t looking forward to it and was anticipating it at the same time. He wanted to see Madara free and happy, and that was only going to happen after a lot of fighting with the village elders, who viciously hated Madara and everything that he stood for. His head hurt just thinking about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, the story is drawing to a close. Next chapter is technically the last chapter, but I'm going to put up an epilogue a few years after, and after that, this story is complete!


	24. Advocation for Peace

“Have you gone insane?” the woman elder’s high-pitched voice assaulted Madara’s ears, followed by a cackle. His eye twitched at the noise and at the implication.

Hashirama, who still wasn’t in his best condition, was sitting at the head of the table, looking as though he was trying his best to stay upright. He’d only managed to get the sentence, _I’ve called this meeting as head of the clan to negotiate peace between the Uchiha and Senju clans._ Madara’s eye twitched at her harsh treatment of someone who is so obviously sick, and he saw that Tobirama’s jaw was stiffened.

“I told Butsuma a long time ago that he needed to cast Hashirama off as his heir and choose one of his other sons. His oldest is much too soft-hearted,” the old man said. “Tobirama is much more intelligent, and understands why we were at war with the Uchiha. He would make a great leader.”

“I’m here for the same reason as my brother, elder,” Tobirama told him. “We need to negotiate a peace treaty with them. Madara Uchiha is here to talk with us and come to some sort of agreement. Peace is the only answer that is going to make everyone truly happy.”

“You come in here demanding peace,” the woman laughed. “Do you honestly think that it’s going to be that easy? We’ve been at war for centuries! How can both of Butsuma’s sons come in, asking for peace with an _Uchiha_ in tow only two days after your father has died? How can you two ask for this, as though you’ve forgotten what the Uchiha have done to us?”

“With all due respect, lady elder,” Madara finally spoke up, keeping his voice as level as he could, “I would just like to point out that the Senju weren’t the only ones hurt in this war. We’ve lost thousands of brethren as well over the centuries that we’ve fought. I want peace just as much as these two do. I don’t believe that as many people would be opposed to it as you would think. We’re all sick of losing people, and no one actually wants go back out on the battlefield and lose anyone else.”

“You dare speak to me, Uchiha?” the woman snapped. “I don’t know what these two have been doing, but I do not fraternize with enemies and servants!”

Tobirama sighed, and opened his mouth at the same time that Madara did so. However, neither of them beat Hashirama to the punch. “Lady Aoi, he said sternly. Madara Uchiha is our guest at the moment. He is the head of the Uchiha clan, and he will be treated with due respect. We came in here asking to negotiate terms of peace, and it will be the last time that I ask nicely for you to cooperate before you lose your position as clan elder. If you cannot act in the way that your position requires you to act, then you are of no use to the clan as an elder.”

Lady Aoi looked at Hashirama with wide eyes, but she nodded her head after a few moments, acknowledging that she was out of place.

“You are going to have to excuse my interruption,” the male elder said, “but what exactly are you here for? The Senju clan has been at peace for nearly two months now. There’s no need for this meeting at all. Why should we care about the peace of the Uchiha clan? As far as we’re concerned, them in captivity is as close to peace between our clans as we’re going to get. I know what you’re asking for, but I want to know why do you think that we would be alright with it.”

“Peace won at the extent of others isn’t peace at all, first and foremost,” Hashirama said. “Secondly, the two months that we’ve been here have been peaceful, but it isn’t going to last. I know that the news has already spread to both of you, so don’t act as though you don’t know about the attempted rebellion two nights ago. Tell me, Lord Asahi, you’ve been around much longer than the three of us. Do you think that a battalion of guards could quell a full-scale riot of angry and scorned Uchiha? I don’t think that they could. I believe that it would be slaughter, and then they would all come after the rest of the Senju. Our side would be at a major disadvantage, due to a surprise attack, and we would be back at war.”

“We can take measures to ensure that no more riots happen,” Lady Aoi argued. “There’s no reason to just free them!”

“Other than it’s the right thing to do,” Madara shot back at her. “Tell me, Lady elder. Have you ever been held captive? It’s humiliating, and the Uchiha clan is just a proud as your Senju clan. The only thing that is going to stop them from fighting back again is if you give them freedom. If you don’t give it to them, they’re going to take it, and peace won’t be an option.”

“Are you threatening our clan?” Lady Aoi demanded.

“I’m not threatening anyone,” Madara informed her. “I’m telling you what’s going to happen if you don’t cooperate.”

“You’re just as insolent as your father was,” Lady Aoi informed him. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she looked to Hashirama and Tobirama. “You honestly want us to make peace with such a barbaric—”

“Alright,” Hashirama cut her off. “We _are_ going to make peace, Lady Aoi, and Lord Asahi. This is going to happen whether you like it or not.”

“My brother is right,” Tobirama finally spoke up. “A new generation is starting to come into power. You can call them lazy, or cowards, or whatever you want to call them, but they are what the backbone of both clans are made out of. Our generation doesn’t want war, and we’re not going to stand for it. You two no longer have to go out on the battlefield and live through that hell over and over again every day that you’re still alive. How can you willingly send someone out there to do it for you because you’re too proud and bitter to allow peace to prosper?”

Silence rang through the room and Hashirama sighed. “Let’s have a thirty-minute break. It’ll give us enough time to think things through and clear our minds. All of this arguing is going to do nothing but fray our nerves and we’ll never get anywhere.”

“Agreed,” Lady Aoi muttered as she and Asahi got to their feet and walked through a door that would lead them even deeper into the main Senju house.

Hashirama sighed as he walked in the opposite direction, going toward the front of the home. “I’m going out to get some fresh air,” he announced.

“I’m going to get something to drink,” Tobirama said. “Would you two like anything?”

“Some lemonade sounds amazing,” Hashirama admitted, looking over his shoulder with a grateful smile before disappearing out of the room.

“I’ll help you,” Madara said, gesturing for Tobirama to lead the way.

The kitchen was empty when they walked inside. Madara just leaned against the countertop as Tobirama reached into a cupboard and grabbed three glasses. He set them on the counter and walked to the fridge. “Is lemonade good for you?”

Madara grunted in agreement and Tobirama pulled a large pitcher out and walked back to the countertop. Madara pushed himself into an upright position and walked behind Tobirama, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him back against his chest. “You were really quiet through most of the meeting,” Madara murmured quietly in his ear. “Is everything alright?”

Tobirama sighed and set the pitcher down. “Yeah,” he said. Madara felt Tobirama’s hands clasp around his own. “I knew that this was going to be annoying, and that the elders weren’t going to want to listen, but I can’t stand listening to them bash you and Hashirama. They’re supposed to be advisors only. With father, that’s exactly what they were, but I can already see what they’re trying to do, and I’m not going to let it happen.”

“What do you mean?” Madara asked.

“They’re trying to bully Hashirama into submission. They want to make him out as little more than a puppet in order to keep the old ways alive for as long as possible,” Tobirama told him. “They believe because of his softer disposition that they can force him into what they believe is right. I’m not going to let that happen.”

“Hey,” Madara said. He moved his hands and put one on Tobirama’s shoulder, pulling. Tobirama got the message and turned around. Madara was silent as he looked at his face, which was pinched together. Most other people would think that he was either just thinking really hard or was angry. Madara could see the concern deep within his eyes. “Your brother is a lot of things. He’s stupid, a fool, and eccentric, but he’s not weak. Everything is going to be alright.”

Tobirama sighed, but his expression was less concerned. “You’re right,” he finally said. “I don’t think that he’s weak, but I can’t help but be worried about him.”

“That just means that you’re a good brother,” Madara told him. He grabbed either side of Tobirama’s face and pulled him a bit lower so that he could press his lips against the other’s forehead. Tobirama smiled at him and leaned forward. Madara closed his eyes and smiled at the feel of Tobirama’s lips against his. It was only a soft brush of skin, but it was still enough to set his heart pounding.

“I knew it!”

 

 

Tobirama gasped and pulled away from Madara, who went stumbling backward just as Tobirama crashed into the countertop behind him. He snapped his head to the side and fought back a groan at the sight of Hashirama standing at the entrance of the kitchen. He was leaning heavily against a countertop, and looked as though he was moments away from passing out, but his smile was still as bright as ever. Tobirama looked away from his brother and turned back to look at Madara, whose face was bright red.

“I should finish off the job that the poison started, Senju,” Madara growled at him. His voice wasn’t as angry as it should have been, and Tobirama figured that Madara said it more out of an effort to hide his surprise than anything else.

“It’s not my fault,” Hashirama said. “I was wondering what was taking you two so long. I just came in to make sure that everything was alright. Imagine my surprise when I walked in on such an _adorable_ scene!”

A feeling of horror was starting to well up in his stomach. He wasn’t sure that he was prepared for his overbearing older brother to find out about him and Madara. From the scowl on the Uchiha’s face, he’d been thinking the exact same thing. “Now that that’s all out of the way,” Hashirama said, he turned and looked at Madara. “I believe that my younger brother really does like you a lot. You don’t plan on hurting him, do you?”

“Hashirama!” Tobirama scolded. He pushed himself off the counter and marched toward his older brother. “I think that’s enough out of you, you fool!”

“Come on, Tobi!” Hashirama whined as Tobirama grabbed his brother by the back of his collar and yanked him into a standing position. He was sure to be gentle because of Hashirama’s weakened condition, but that didn’t mean that he was any less firm. “You’re my baby brother! I have to threaten him! It’s my duty as an older brother to threaten the guy that his younger brother is dating!”

“Hashirama,” Madara’s voice rumbled from behind Tobirama. He turned around and saw that Madara was a few steps away from them. His dark eyes glowed in sincerity as he said, “I have no intentions of ever hurting Tobirama. I genuinely care about him, and I just want to see him happy. If I do ever end up hurting him, however, I believe that Tobirama would be able to handle himself just fine.”

Hashirama’s unhappy pout immediately turned into a large smile. “I’m happy to hear that, Madara,” he said. “I knew you two would make such an adorable couple! I’m so happy! Wait until I write Mito about this. I was telling her about how I wished you two would just—” Tobirama hurriedly slapped a hand over Hashirama’s mouth in an effort to stop so much blood from pooling around on his face. Madara looked like he was the same complexion that Tobirama felt.

“Take the idiot outside,” Madara told Tobirama weakly. “I’ll get the drinks.”

Tobirama nodded and turned around, hauling his older brother toward the front door. “Is it a game to you, brother?” Tobirama questioned. “I swear you seem to try your best to embarrass me as much as possible where ever you go.”

“It’s not a game,” Hashirama said. “It’s my job, and I happen to take it very seriously.”

Tobirama snorted as he opened the door and helped Hashirama out onto the porch. He sat him down in one of the chairs and took a seat next to him. He saw guards walking around on the lawn, some talking, others just doing rounds. His embarrassment about Madara quickly faded away as worry about what they were trying to accomplish reared its ugly head.

“Do you think that this is going to work?” Tobirama questioned. It wasn’t like him to feel uncertain, especially when he was the one that started the path toward peace in the first place, but it felt as though it truly was an impossible achievement.

“It’s definitely going to work,” Hashirama replied. “I’m actually thinking of going a little further with things than just peace.”

“What do you mean?” Tobirama asked as the door opened again, admitting Madara to the porch with their refreshments. He sat down next to Tobirama and looked in between both brothers.

“Do you remember that amazing idea that we had when we were kids, Madara?” Hashirama asked. “The one that we planned at the riverbank every day that we went out and met each other?”

“Yeah,” Madara replied, much to Tobirama’s confusion. What plan was he speaking about? “What about it?”

“I think it might be time to start laying down some groundwork to get that started up as well,” Hashirama said. “It feels like more than just a faraway dream now. I think that we really could make it happen.”

“Will one of you tell me what you’re talking about?” Tobirama asked. He hated the feeling of being left out of a conversation.

“I’ve told you about it before, Tobirama,” Hashirama informed him. “You remember when we were younger, and I used to try and convince you and the others that we needed to create a village. One that was peaceful and didn’t focus on clan differences. It was a way for us shinobi to stand united and together. It would keep the children safe, and allow them to actually be kids before they became shinobi.”

“Yes, I remember idea,” Tobirama said quietly. It was the pipedream that Hashirama had clung to for almost as long as Tobirama could remember. Sometimes, Tobirama was certain that it had been the only thing that kept his older brother sane, especially during his harsh teenage years. Hashirama was right, however, and it felt like less of a pipedream, and more like an attainable goal.

“Why not?” Tobirama grabbed his glass of lemonade and couldn’t stop the small smile that curled onto his lips as he gripped Madara’s hand with his free one and took a sip of the drink. They could either go big or go home, and the three of them were nothing if not larger than life. “Let’s go for it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is technically it...the last chapter of the story line (I don't think that the epilogue really counts). Thank you all so much for reading! I'm so happy that you all loved it this much. It became so much more than I ever thought that it would, and you guys encouraged me so much that I never stopped wanting to write it! You're all the best, honestly!!
> 
> So, now that all of the mushy business is out of the way, the epilogue will be out in a couple of days. What did you think of the story as a whole? How was this chapter?


	25. Epilogue: Two Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is guys! The last chapter!

It had been a long and hard two years. The arguments and the fighting between the Senju and the Uchiha clans hadn’t gone away overnight, and they still had a long way to go before they would truly unite into a single village, but things were starting to come together quite nicely. Tobirama wouldn’t call himself an optimistic man by any means at all, but he could admit that things were definitely looking up. It had taken five long days of discussing and arguing to even get the elders on the same page as them. Tobirama could still remember his frayed temper and nerves by the end of it all. He’d come close to murdering everyone in the room, Hashirama and Madara included. After that, things had started looking up. The Uchiha elders had been easier to convince, though they had been adamant about not allowing it themselves. When it had all been said and done, however, they had the consent from both clans and the construction of the Village Hidden in the Leaves had started.

“What are you thinking about?” Madara’s quiet voice broke the silence of their bedroom. It was early in the morning, and work wasn’t for another couple of hours.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” Tobirama admitted.

He felt the bed shift, and then there was a hand carding fingers gently through his hair. His eyes reflexively shut from the relaxing sensation that swept over his entire body. “I haven’t been awake for long,” Madara told him just before lips brushed against his cheek. “So, what’s on your mind? You have that look on your face that you always have when you’re deep in thought.”

“I was thinking about how far we’ve come in two years,” Tobirama admitted. “The village is nearing completion. The Hokage tower was finished yesterday, and now Hashirama actually has a place to work.”

Madara snorted. “He’ll still be trying to come up with an excuse to stay home with Mito. Apparently, she’s very needy when she’s pregnant.”

Tobirama chuckled at this. “Hashirama was telling me yesterday how she was running him ragged. I don’t think he meant the good kind of needy,” he said. “If it’s actually that bad, I’m sure that he’ll jump at the excuse to go to work just to get a break from her.”

“We have come a long way,” Madara murmured, returning to the original subject of conversation. “I’m actually very proud of our progress. Our dreams have finally come true. No more war, no more needless deaths. I can sleep in the same house as the man I love without any worries of being separated, or of either of us being harmed. I can’t think of any other way to live. I don’t think that I could ever go back to the way that things were.”

“And to think,” Tobirama mused, “that this never would have happened if you wouldn’t have become my servant.”

Madara chuckled. “I’ll never be so happy again that Hashirama kicked my ass ever again.”

Tobirama laughed at that. He doubted that Madara would ever be happy that Hashirama bested him in anything again. No amount of love would ever leave him blind to how proud him and his entire clan was. He looked over at Madara’s smiling face before sighing. It would probably be a better idea to go ahead and get up. “I’ll go ahead and get some coffee ready,” Tobirama said as he pushed himself up.

Madara’s hand sneaked around his waist and caught him in a vice grip before he could move anymore. He felt the other’s hair tickling against his lower back as he rested his head against the bare flesh. “Don’t get up,” he muttered. “Stay in bed for a little while. I still have some stamina left over from last night.”

“I bet you do,” Tobirama told him, “but if I don’t get up now, I’m not going to. Do you want to explain to Hashirama how we both miraculously failed to show up for work again?”

“I don’t care what your brother thinks,” Madara said. “He’s an idiot, remember? We don’t have to do anything, but I want to hold you for a little while.”

Tobirama knew that line all too well. Holding always ended up turning to other things, which eventually had them rolling around the bed. He sighed and shook his head, even though the action was wasted. “You already know that won’t work,” Tobirama informed him. “If you want to hold me, then get up and get dressed. We can sit together on the couch.”

Madara sighed in defeat and released his arms from around Tobirama’s waist. Tobirama grinned as he got out of bed. He turned around and looked at Madara, whose face was down in the mattress. His hair was wild, like it always was when he woke up. The rat’s nest that Tobirama was coming to find more and more endearing with every morning that he woke up to see it was nestled against his scalp. Madara lifted his head up and looked at him with a lopsided smile. Tobirama leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss against his lips. “Get up,” he told him before he walked out of the room and into the kitchen.

_Domestic life is nice_ , Tobirama mused as he turned the coffeepot on. It was a great change from the nomadic war-torn life that he’d lived before. He’d had a taste of it while the Uchiha were Senju captives but living with Madara now was so much better. The freedom of having him around whenever he wanted him to be there was like a breath of fresh air. He liked having lunch with him at one of the many restaurants in Konoha. He enjoyed taking him to the dinner parties that Hashirama and Mito occasionally threw. He liked walking in the park with him and going for hikes in the woods. The thing that he loved the most, however, was that Madara was with him by choice. He’d stayed and lived with Tobirama because he wanted to. There was nothing forced about it. They had tried staying apart from each other, but it had only lasted a week before they were back in the same home again. Tobirama didn’t know when he’d allowed himself to depend on Madara so much, but now it was as though he needed Madara more than he needed to breathe, more than he needed a heartbeat.

He needed him as more than a lover. Madara was the only person that he confided in. He was the man that Tobirama came home to and asked for advice. He was the man that Tobirama ranted to and comforted him when he was upset. He was the man that could read Tobirama, even when he was trying his best to hide all of his emotions. Madara was everything to him, and now that Tobirama had true happiness, there was no way that he would ever let it go.

Arms wrapped around him from behind and he was pulled against a strong chest. “Good morning,” Madara greeted as his lips ghosted against his neck. “The coffee smells divine.”

“Sometimes I feel as though the only reason that you’re with me is because I’m willing to wake up before you and turn the coffeemaker on.”

“I wouldn’t say that’s the _only_ reason,” Madara chuckled, “though, I have to admit that it’s a definite plus.”

“Then why?” Tobirama questioned him with a low laugh.

“Hmmm…It’s because I love you, of course,” Madara informed him. He let Tobirama go and walked around him to grab their coffee cups. “Go ahead and get ready. I’ll make the coffee.”

Tobirama couldn’t help the sigh at those words as he walked back into their bedroom and began getting changed. Being the Hokage’s advisor wasn’t easy. It was a lot like wrangling a child that had been fed twice the legal limit of sugar to sit down and do their homework. It was nearly impossible, and the results weren’t satisfying, but Tobirama didn’t think that he wanted his life any other way.

When he walked back into the kitchen, Madara was nowhere to be found. Tobirama sighed and walked into the living room and saw that he was seated on the sofa, their cups of coffee sitting on the table in front of his legs. He couldn’t fight back the smile at the sight of Madara looking up at him expectantly.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Madara told him. “You told me that I could hold you on the couch, and that’s exactly what I plan on doing.”

Tobirama didn’t have to be told twice. He walked over to the couch, sat down next to Madara and leaned into him, nestling himself in the man’s arms. He closed his eyes and sighed in contentment. “I love you,” Tobirama whispered. “You know that, right?”

“Yes, I know,” Madara said to him quietly. “I love you too.”

Tobirama leaned over and grabbed his cup, taking a small sip out of the hot liquid and sighing in contentment before he sat it back down and leaned his head against Madara’s shoulder with his eyes fluttering shut. The strong _thrum_ of Madara’s heartbeat never failed to lull him to sleep. Hopefully Madara would wake him up soon enough, that way they could be on time for once. When he felt Madara’s arms wrap more firmly around him, he figured that day wouldn’t be today. In his dazed state, just starting to drift off, he couldn’t find himself to care. Hashirama would get over it, spending time with Madara was what was most important to him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that this wrapped things up nicely for everyone! I'm kind of sad now that this is finally completed, but I'm super happy at the same time. Thanks all for reading! I hope you enjoyed it as much as I have!


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